


Through the Fire

by Mikkal



Series: Thunder, Lightning, and the Storm [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Asexual!Barry, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Multi, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, not quite hogwarts, surprisingly canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkal/pseuds/Mikkal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During their sixth year, there's an 'accident' in Dr. Harrison Wells' Defense Against the Dark Arts class that puts Barry in a coma. This sets off a domino effect that leads to everyone's lives falling apart.</p><blockquote>
  <p><br/><i>She bursts through the doors of the Wing and freezes at the sight of Barry in one of the beds, unconscious—asleep?—and covered in terrible burns; Eddie is in a seat next to him, his fingers folded with Barry’s carefully. When he sees her, though, he jumps to his feet.</i><br/> <br/><i>“Iris…”</i></p>
  <p> <i>“What happened?” she demands, dropping her bag on the ground. “Eddie.</i> What happened?”</p>
  <p> <i>He covers his face with both hands and drags them up through his hair. “I don’t know. One minute we’re practicing the fulmen spell and the next there’s an explosion and Barry goes flying. I mean, Dr. Wells always has experiments going on the in back of the classroom, but we were far away enough that we couldn’t have triggered anything. I’m not entirely sure what happened."</i><br/></p>
</blockquote>a harry potter/flash fusion
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**i.**

She’s in History of Magic when a student comes rushing into the room straight to Professor Lance, the woman is a seventh year obviously and her face is flushed and she looks like she’s been crying. Iris frowns along with everyone else, leaning forward to try and hear the hushed conversation better. She jerks back when the professor meets her eyes and dread pools in her stomach, heavy and thick.

            “Miss. West, please get your things and come up here.”

            Iris stuffs her notebook into her bag and slings it over her shoulder, curling her fingers around the strap nervously. Professor Dinah Lance’s expressions are usually blank, with only a glimmer of excitement when she teaches and pride when a student exceeds exceptionally well, but now, she just looks sad and sympathetic.

            Her tone is low when she says; “There’s been an incident in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

She suddenly finds herself struggling to breathe, Hufflepuff has that class with Slytherins right now, oh God. Barry, Eddie?

“Barry is in the Hospital Wing,” the professor continues. “You have permission to leave class early.” There’s a pause. “I’m sorry, Iris.”

Her legs refuse to move even though all she wants to do is start running. She covers her mouth and suppresses a sob. Hands grab both of her arms, Caitlin on one side and Laurel on the other, and they guide her out of the classroom into the hallway.

“I’ll grab our stuff,” Laurel says quietly. “And talk to mom. I’ll meet you there.”

Caitlin guides her about halfway to the Hospital Wing until Iris shakes herself out of her dazed panic. She pulls her bag tighter and squares her shoulders; her steps turn to marching then the marching turns to jogging. The only thing keeping her from going into a full sprint are the suits of armor that like to trip running students and that the fountain in the middle of the courtyard isn’t always in the middle of the courtyard.

She bursts through the doors of the Wing and freezes at the sight of Barry in one of the beds, unconscious—asleep?—and covered in terrible burns; Eddie is in a seat next to him, his fingers folded with Barry’s carefully. When he sees her, though, he jumps to his feet.

“Iris…”

“What happened?” she demands, dropping her bag on the ground. “Eddie. _What happened_?”

He covers his face with both hands and drags them up through his hair. “I don’t know. One minute we’re practicing the _fulmen_ spell and the next there’s an explosion and Barry goes flying. I mean, Dr. Wells always has experiments going on the in back of the classroom, but we were far away enough that we couldn’t have triggered anything. I’m not entirely sure what happened.”

Iris presses her hand to her mouth and takes Eddie’s empty seat, staring at Barry’s face. Half of it is red with patches of shiny, oozing burns, like he’s been doused in a corrosive chemical, the damage goes down his neck and spreads out across his bare chest. The covers are folded over his legs so they’re not causing even more pain by resting on the burns.

And he _is_ in pain, even unconscious his mouth is pulled into a grimace and his brows are furrowed, his hands are curled in to fists, clutching at the sheets underneath him. She reaches out for his hand, folding her fingers over his carefully like Eddie had before.

Eddie puts his hands on her shoulders, pressing his thumbs into knots and resting his chin on her head. “Yao Fei said that there’s a potion that will get rid of the worst of it. He’ll be left with a few patches of scars and possibly a permanent Lichtenberg flower since they’re magical in nature we can’t get rid of all of them. But he’ll be okay.”

She grabs one of his hands with her free hand. “How can he be so sure? We don’t even know what _happened_.”

He comes around and kneels in front of her, cupping her face with both hands and meeting her eyes. “This is Barry we’re talking about,” he says softly, firmly. “He never gives up.”

Iris gives him a wobbly smile, a tear running down her cheek. There are three things well known about Barry Allen: he’s loyal through and through, he is always late to arrive but late to leave, and he never gives up on something important.

 _And this is important_.

            The doors open again and Nora comes rushing in, tears streaking down her cheeks and her eyes already swelling and red from the emotional output. Iris abandons her stolen chair to wrap her arms around the older woman. Nora catches full sight of her son and it’s like all the air leaves her lungs, she makes a gasping noise and Iris is forced to take more of her weight than she can handle. Eddie takes her other side and, together, they help her to the chair.

She can’t stay in it for long. Nora hovers over Barry, cupping the non-injured cheek. “What happened?”

Eddie goes through the story again, words cracking and stuttering as if realising that now that he’s telling Barry’s mother about this he’s a lot less sure about Barry’s prospects. Iris swallows thickly, pressing her knuckles to her mouth to keep herself from making a noise of distress.

If Barry…If Barry dies, then Nora’s lost everything—her only son dead, her husband in Azkaban, and her reputation in ruins even a decade after the tragedy.

            What are any of them going to do if they lose Barry?

 

            **ii.**

It takes nine days of Barry being in a coma before Yao Fei first suggests that they move him to St. Teresa’s. Eddie keeps quiet as Nora and Iris talk in hush tones. He’s only known Barry and Iris since second year, he has no say in this. He runs a hand through his hair and goes back to staring at the comatose boy’s face. The burns are healing fast, faster than Yao Fei admits should be happening, but they’re still shiny and oozing.

            He lets the small argument go as background music as he brushes the tips of his fingers up and down Barry’s arm. There’s not much he can do right now. Nothing he can say, no spell he can try to fix this. Iris might not say anything, neither will Nora, or any of their friends, but if only he’d been paying more attention in class, to Barry, to the experiments that Dr. Wells is always conducting, to the fact that _something_ always happens to Barry in that class—though never this dangerous and never to this extent.

_He should’ve been paying attention._

Arms wrap around him from behind and Iris rests her chin on his shoulder. “He’s being moved to St. Teresa’s next week,” she says quietly. “On Dr. Wells’ expense.”

“It feels like that’s not enough,” he mutters, reaching up to clasp his hand around her wrist. “Is Singh doing anything about the experiments?”

“Auror Lance is looking into it, Dad’s going to stop by tomorrow to gather as much information he can, but if they can’t pinpoint any malicious intent, then nothing will happen.” She presses her face against his neck, seeking comfort that he’s not sure he has the ability to give at the moment.

The hospital wing doors open and Sara peeks her head in before walking in, Nyssa not far behind. Sara’s loosened her Slytherin tie while Nyssa’s done away with hers completely. They both look worried and they have a faint amount of guilt in their expressions even though Eddie’s told them over and over again that none of this is their fault. They may have been practicing the spell right next to him and Barry, but he’d been Barry’s partner for that lesson. All the blame lays on him.

“Did you guys decide?” Sara asks, looking from them to Nora.

Nora nods. “St. Teresa’s next week,” she says quietly, her voice breaking slightly.

Nyssa nods solemnly, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend’s waist to pull her closer. “If you need anything…” she offers, trailing off awkwardly.

Nora smiles slightly. “Thank you, dear.” She smooths back her son’s hair and presses a kiss to his forehead, mindful of the patch of raw skin off to the side. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Keep an eye on him for me?”

“Of course,” Iris says, squeezing Eddie a little tighter.

There’s a long moment of silence after she leaves, none of them willing to speak first. Yeah, Eddie’s in the same house and year as them, but they’ve never really been buddy-buddy. He often found himself extending to friendships to outside his house, which is how he somehow ended up in a relationship with Iris (a Gryffindor) and Barry (the most Hufflepuff-est Hufflepuff you will ever meet).

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Iris says, curling around so she’s sitting on his lap and pressing close. “But is there something you needed?”

Sara shakes her head immediately. “No, not really. We just wanted to see how he’s doing, how _you_ aredoing.”

            Eddie looks away from her, pressing his lips together in a thin line and refusing to answer. He focuses on Barry while Iris tells them softly that they’re doing okay, not great, not good, just okay. He reaches out and takes Barry’s hand, turning it over to press his fingertips against the fleshy parts of his palm. It’s awkward with Iris in his lap, but it calms him down and shoves the guilt into a little corner in his mind.

            Sara and Nyssa leave with promises that all their other friends are going to visit before Barry’s sent to St. Teresa’s and that Cisco wants to throw a small goodbye get together in the Hospital Wing before it happens.

            A hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him away from Barry. He reluctantly puts up no resistance and carefully avoids Iris’ eyes even as she holds both his hands in hers.

            “Eddie,” she says softly. “I’ve said this a dozen times and I will say it a million more until you believe it: none of this is your fault.” She presses soft fingers to his chin, lifting it so he’s forced to meet her determined gaze. “And I _know_ , in my heart of hearts, that Barry does not, will not blame you either. If it’s an accident, no one is to blame. If it’s not, Harrison Wells is to blame, and maybe Headmaster Singh for letting him experiment in the classroom, but it will _never_ be you.”

            He doesn’t, _can’t_ answer her, his eyes drifting back to Barry’s damaged face. The other teen’s breathing is erratic, fast and jerky. He hears Iris sigh and she sags against him, pressing her face close to his. There’s the brush of a kiss against his temple.

            It isn’t before long until she falls asleep like that and he’s left watching Barry breathe until Nora gets back.

 

**iii.**

Iris wakes up to the sound of glass shattering. She leaps up from her chair blindly, the aftermath of sleep disorienting her vision. Even then, she yanks her wand out and points it at nothing in particular in some sort of defense. When her vision clears and her head is on a little straighter she sighs, slumping back down. Every loose glass and china object in the room now lays shattered.

            “He did it again?”

            She glances over to see Eddie frozen at the door, two coffees in hand. “Yeah, he did,” she answers, dragging a hand down her face.

            Three weeks into Barry’s coma his magic started going wild and almost uncontrolled. This is just one instance in many that shows _something_ happened when he’d been thrown into Wells’ experiments. She takes the coffee lowered in front of her vision and sips it slowly.

It’s been nine weeks now, almost to the day. Barry’s burns are healed to the point that all there is left are patches of scaring along his right arm and side that indicates much deeper wounds than they actually were despite the fact that he healed fully nearly two weeks after being transferred. There’s one behind his ear that curls around to the front of his neck and encroaches slightly on the bottom of his jaw. It’s raised and rough, a dark brown with patches of faint white.

And the Lichtenberg flower racing up his hip to along his back and shoulders just makes her want to be sick.

Eddie smooths a hand on her hair and presses a kiss to the crown of her head before plopping down in the seat next to her. “When did you manage to get Nora to go home?”

She glances at her watch and winces. “About two hours ago. She’ll probably be back in a few more.”

While Barry’s frequency of visitors dwindled the longer he stayed in a coma—and really, Iris can’t blame them. They still come, but it’s less often due to school and life—Nora has spent almost every waking moment with her son. It took all their power to convince her not to cancel her classes and she only agreed when the headmaster allowed her to condense her classes and teach twice a week instead of five.

The windows rattle and the lights flicker, Eddie glances at them nervously. “There’s never been more than one outburst in a day,” he comments slowly. He sets his coffee to the side and gets up to sit on the edge of the bed instead, tangling his fingers with Barry’s lax ones.

“Barry?” he says softly. “Can you hear me?”

He’s never responded before and Iris doesn’t expect him to respond now. She touches Eddie’s thigh lightly, bunching his pants under her curled fingers before wrapping her arm around his stomach. He glances down at her, his expression tragic and still guilt-ridden after all this time.

“He’ll wake up,” she promises. “Yao Fei said he would.”

“There’s only so long someone can go,” he protests, “and we’re hitting that mark by magical means. And if magic can’t do it then we’re, he’s screwed.”

She leans forward and rests her head on his hip, her free hand snaking to his back to grip his shirt. She’s just so _tired_ and worried. School is getting harder and harder as they go through sixth year and as more and more wizards are exposing themselves to the world, wrecking havoc on normals and magical. Her dad is stuck in the middle of it, being an auror for the Ministry.

The lights flicker again and Eddie’s suddenly thrown forward by an invisible force. He crashes hard into Iris and she yelps, clutching him as they fall backward so fast she can’t yank out her wand to shout a cushioning spell. She squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for impact, when everything just _stops._

Iris cracks one eye open to find herself only a few inches from the ground, Eddie hovering just a little above her. His hands on her shoulders, like he wants to swing her around so she’s landing on him instead, but, instead, they’re staring wide-eyed at each other.

“What the hell?”

She glances over to see Barry sitting up, breathing hard, and staring at them with equal wide-eyed shock. “Holy shit,” she breathes. “Eddie. Eddie, holy shit.”

Barry moans and doubles over, holding his head and paling significantly. They drop to the ground with an _oomph_! Eddie jumps to his feet, stumbles to the door, and shouts for a nurse. She staggers and rushes to the bed, one hand on Barry’s back and the other bracing a shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asks frantically. When he doesn’t answer she lets panic climb its way up her throat to her voice. “ _Barry_?”

He clamps a hand around her arm and looks up at her through his eyelashes. “I’m f-fine,” he says, grinning slightly. “I just got up too fast.”

Iris drops her head on his shoulder, practically collapsing in relief. She pinches him lightly. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

He presses his cheek against her temple and murmurs, “Sorry.” His grip loosens and drags down to cup her elbow. He’s trembling; minute shakes in his hands and arms. “Sorry,” he says again, softer.

Eddie’s back in the room, a frantic energy still in every move he makes. It recedes a little when he cups the back of Barry’s neck and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome back,” he whispers.

Barry leans into him, closing his eyes and humming in contentment. “How long was I out?”

“Nine weeks,” Iris answers, feeling a little reluctant to tell him that. He only _just_ woke up. “You’re at St. Teresa’s.”

Eddie sits on Barry’s other side, his hand sliding down his neck to rest on the small of his back. “The doctor’s on his way,” he tells them. “Caitlin’s interning today so she’s coming too.”

He brightens at that. “Caitlin? How is everyone?” Neither of them get to answer because then his expression turns slightly panicked. “What about my mom?”

“She’s fine,” Iris soothes. “Worried sick, but fine. She’s still teaching and she literally left two hours ago because I made her go take a shower and sleep in a proper bed.”

When the incident happened, the one that resulted in Barry’s dad being put in Azkaban, Nora sort of became _detached_ from the world for a few months. Barry had stayed with Iris and her dad during that time, but it’s still terrifying to think about the empty look in the normally strong woman’s eyes and how much it looked like it hurt to move even a little bit. No one could figure out if it was a result of losing her husband to Azkaban or her husband using the Cruciatus on her and their ten-year-old son.

Iris voted and still votes on the latter, and she can completely understand why Barry is worried about his mom. She pats his hand and gets up as the doctor comes in, Caitlin close behind.

“I’ll go call her, okay?” she says. “I’ll be right out the door.”

Barry’s hand flashes out and grabs hers with surprising strength. Shock flickers across his face, like he can’t understand why he’s keeping her from calling his mom. Iris gives him a gentle smile.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises.

Eddie wraps an arm around his shoulders, pressing close to his side. Caitlin’s expression breaks out in a bright smile rarely seen from the fellow sixth year. Barry smiles back, accepting the hug from her. She squeezes tight before pulling away to give room for the doctor.

Iris pulls out her phone and leans against the wall, keeping one ear on the conversation going on in the room and the other on the rings. “Pick up, pick up,” she mutters. She really hopes Nora is either not asleep or the sound of her phone will wake her up.

“Iris? Is everything okay? Did something happen to Barry?”

“He woke up,” she says, her words cracking slightly as her throat burns. She presses her fingers to her eyes, trying to stem the tears of relief. “He woke up.”

On the other line Nora starts crying.


	2. Chapter 2

**iv.**

He can’t get his hands to stop shaking. It’s been a week since he’s come back to school but he can’t get his damn hands to stop shaking. Barry tucks them under his arms and paces in front of the blank wall, determinedly thinking of nothing until he can decide on what he wants. Normally this room is used during the nights the three of them absolutely can’t stand being in separate Houses, but right now he just wants to be alone.

            _Somewhere I can be alone._ Turn. _Somewhere I can be alone._ Turn. _Somewhere I can be alone._

The door that appears is surprisingly plain. Usually it’s ornate with carvings and gilded pictures of what the room is wanted for. A place to read quietly? Gilded books. A place to make-out? Carved kisses. It’s a strange quirk considering no one else is going to see it since the door fades away once it’s entered. This door, on the other hand, this door has the faintest lines that remind him strongly, uncomfortably, of lightning.

            He sighs in relief and reaches out to turn the bronze knob, but he freezes when someone calls his name. Tommy raises an eyebrow at him, smiling slightly when Barry turns slowly to face the Gryffindor.

            “You okay?” he asks. “Usually, when you go in there it’s with Iris and Eddie.” There’s absolutely no subtext in that, somehow it became common knowledge around fourth year that Barry didn’t do sex. It confused a lot of people since that’s around the same time Iris, Eddie, and him started dating and people just didn’t understand, but they’ve caught on since then.

Barry lets go of the knob and presses his knuckles into the palm of his other hand, glancing away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just—.” How does he tell him he’s just having a rough time? That there’s this itching under his skin and an ache in his head that’s just getting worse and worse?

Tommy nods, not seeming to need for him to finish his sentence. “Do you want me to tell Eddie and Iris you’re here? Lunch is in ten minutes. I doubt you’ll make it, will you?”

He shakes his head silently, biting the inside of his cheek. He will not lose it in front of Tommy Merlyn. _He_ will not _lose it in front of Tommy Merlyn._ His nerves are frayed and his emotions are teetering on the edge of a full-blown break down. He’s stopped having those since he started school, a year after the incident, the fact that they’re back pisses him off.

Tommy fixes his bag and jerks his chin down sharply, understanding flashes in his eyes. “I’ll tell them as soon I see them,” he promise. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Barry cracks a smile at that and gives him a jaunty salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” Tommy flashes him a rather rude gesture _thankyouverymuch,_ and heads towards the Dining Hall. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the door.

Maybe he shouldn’t? He rubs the scar behind his ear, dragging his fingers to his jaw. The tips of his fingers tingle, like after shocks of lightning, and maybe it’s his imagination? Or not. It could be not. There’s a humming in his head, making the ache worse.

His hand spasms, wrist jerking and fingers curling with a painful twitch. A suit of armor across the hallway rattles then falls apart like a keystone had been yanked out. The light above him flashes and shatters, raining broken glass down on his head.

The door blasts open from some unseen force and he staggers through the doorway, chest heaving and throat burning. His shoulder clips the doorframe and he goes down like a sack of potatoes. He tries to get up, but this time his whole arm spasms and gives out under his weight. He crashes to the floor again.

Barry can only clench his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut as pain races through his body. He curls up as tight as he can, moaning when his leg jerks and cramps, and can only hope it’ll all be over soon.

 

**v.**

Iris isn’t sure why she’s suddenly feeling the urge to skip lunch. Eddie squeezes her hand and they both stop just outside the doors to the Dining Hall. She peers inside the room; the dim of the students milling around and joking is a little overwhelming.

            “Do you see him?” Eddie asks, looking over her shoulder. “I don’t see him.”

            It wouldn’t be the first time Barry’s skipped lunch this week, but it would be the first time he skips it without telling them and without them joining him in the kitchens for a smaller, less crowded lunch. Iris shuffles even further away from the door, frowning.

            “We should probably check the kitchens,” Eddie suggests quietly, eyeing the two groups of different Houses coming from either direction. They’re a mix of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, and the two of them know all of them, but neither of them knows them as well as Barry does.

            She nods to Thea Queen when the fifth year smiles at her, but it’s Felicity that’s waving her arm and calling Iris’ name.

            “Have you seen Barry?” the blonde Hufflepuff asks. “I haven’t seen him since class let out. He was suppose to work with Ray on that project they started before the _thing.”_ She says ‘thing’ in a whisper, eyes darting to look both ways like the fact Barry had been in a coma is a secret. “He disappeared right after Charms. Poof.”

            “’Poof,’” Roy Harper repeats, sniggering. Thea smacks him on the arm and he winces.

Iris shakes her head. “No, we haven’t seen him.”

“I have,” Tommy says, appearing out of nowhere. Which is weird since that’s usually Oliver’s thing. “He’s in the Room of Requirement.” There’s something in his expression that causes dread to pool in her stomach, Eddie squeezes her hand tight to the point her bones ache. “I told I’d tell you as soon as I saw him. He…didn’t look so good.”

Before Tommy even finishes talking, Eddie is already walking towards the corridor that holds the Room. Iris takes a second to thank Tommy, no more than a second, before she’s rushing after him. His long legs are no match for her quick pace, but soon both of them are running at a full sprint.

(In the back of her mind she’s wondering about the suits of armor. None of them try to trip the two of them, but she could’ve sworn she saw one move a step, shudder, and then creak back to where it belongs.)

The wall is empty when they get there. Iris takes her hand back from Eddie, letting her fingers drag across his palm in small comfort, and closes her eyes. She paces in front of the blank space, one thought on her mind: Barry.

 _Take us to Barry_. Turn. _Take us to Barry_. Turn. _Take us to Barry_.

There’s no door. Her heart sinks. Did she think the wrong thing? The Room has never been that specific before. If there’s already someone in there and you know who it is, all you really have to do is think their name and there’s a door. And they’ve been here often enough the Room _knows_ them by now. This doesn’t make any sense.

Eddie slams his fists on the wall then splays his fingers out to press against it with his palms, like he can push the door into existence. “Something’s wrong,” he says. “The wall’s vibrating.” He pulls out his wand and his eyebrows furrow. “I can do a blasting spell, but something tells me that’s not going to work.” He taps the wall with the tip of his wand and there’s a bright spark of light.

The door that appears is plainer than she’s ever seen; the natural whorls look like streaks of lightning. With a racing heart and sweaty palms, she turns the bronze knob and opens it to the whirlwind of an indoor tornado.

And _screaming._

“Barry!” Eddie shouts. He charges into the fray even as Iris stands there frozen.

Everything is hazy, not only is there a strong wind blowing, but colors dance around the room, fluctuating between dark reds and blues to softer pinks and lavenders. It’s raining in one corner and another corner is going from a straight line to warping like a fun house mirror. Lightning flashes on the walls and thunder rolls; vines and flowers bloom and curl like the waves of the ocean in the form of a moon and a sun on the ceiling.

It’s absolute chaos, there’s so much going on.

And Barry’s in the center of it, curled into a twitching ball and screaming. She can’t tell if it’s in pain or in fear, but it’s wild, feral almost. She wills her feet to move and when they finally do it’s like she’s been shocked into life. She takes off at a run, her eyes burning.

Eddie drops to his knees at Barry’s side, his hand hovering over him as if he’s scared touching him will make it worse. He looks up at her helplessly. “Barry,” he shouts again. He puts a hand on him carefully, when nothing happens he presses down. “Barry!”

Iris kneels down on Barry’s opposite side and bends down low so they’re a little closer face to face. His eyes are closed and he doesn’t even seem to realise they’re there. She runs her fingers through his hair and leaves them there, giving him physical contact from the both of them.

“Barry,” she says, quietly enough she fears it’ll get lost in the storm. “You need to listen to my voice. It’s going to be okay, you hear me? Just take deep breaths.”

Maybe he does hear her, maybe he doesn’t, but the screaming stops and the wind noticeably dies down to a whirling breeze. Iris exchange relieved looks with Eddie. A relief that lasts as long as the looks because there’s a crack of thunder and lightning at the same time and Barry flinches so hard he cries out in pain. He’s still stiff and his eyes are still squeezed shut, he’s a thousand miles away from them.

Eddie curls over him. “Come back to us,” he says softly. It’s the same words he used when Barry had been in the coma. Every time. They never worked before, but this time, maybe? “ _Barry.”_

Iris tightens her hand, her nails digging into Barry’s scalp slightly. “Focus on us. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but ignore it and listen to us. Please.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the rain completely stop in the corner, the puddle it made not expanding out like one would expect, but disappearing slowly. Eddie glances up and she follows his gaze to see the plants receding but not gone completely.

“There we go,” Eddie says, tone purposely light and full of encouragement. “That’s it.”

Barry groans and his eyes flutter open slowly. “Magic,” he croaks out.

“What?”

He twists and rolls onto his back, whimpering slightly. “My magic,” he mumbles out, staring at the ceiling with a dazed, faraway look in his eyes. “Something’s wrong with my magic.”

            Eddie puts a hand on Barry’s forehead, his thumb brushing his hairline in comforting strokes. “We’ll figure it out,” he promises.

            Iris grabs Eddie’s free hand and tangles her fingers with Barry’s. “Until then, you’ve got us. Don’t go disappearing on us again, please?”

            He squeezes her hand, a spark back in his eye. “Promise.”

 

**vi.**

“We kinda can’t figure this out without help,” Eddie says a few days later. “And I’m not entirely sure we can trust anyone right now.”

 _Especially_ Harrison Wells, nothing came out of the investigation, but the man is still on probation and he’s been asking very pointed questions of why Barry hasn’t come to DADA class—and that class is the _only_ class he hasn’t gone to, Barry some how managed to convince Lyla Michaels to cite PTSD and the school board had no choice put to accept.

            It’s not entirely a lie, but eventually the school board is going to force the issue and Barry will have to attend that class again. No matter what ARGUS says. (He still can’t believe Barry got ARGUS to give him a psych eval, that’s some hardcore stuff right there. Not to mention, how does he even know someone from ARGUS? The _director_ of ARGUS even.)

Barry’s tucked up against his side, face pressed into the pillow he’s clutching to his chest so it’s the pacing Iris that answers with: “I wouldn’t say we can’t trust _any_ one, just not _every_ one. The professors, yes—mistrust all the way. Minus Nora, of course. But the students? I’m sure we can trust them. Felicity. Oliver. That group. And we can’t forget Cisco and Caitlin.” There’s a pause. “Linda. We can definitely trust Linda. She’s had a bad feeling about Wells since first year.”

“Nyssa.”

Eddie and Iris simultaneously look to Barry. Barry, who had another magic attack coupled with a panic attack (which, they are learning, is not a very good combination) just an hour ago and it’s not yet left him. This is the first word he’s spoken in two hours.

“What about Nyssa?”Nyssa is the last person he would expect Barry to say.

He glances up at them, eyes puffy red but the rest of his face bleached pale. “Her dad. They’re part of a group of people that practice Eastern magic. A different way to access and control. Maybe…maybe—.”

“Nyssa’s dad is Ra’s al Ghul?” Iris squeaks—actually _squeaks._ Eddie would find it adorable if it weren’t for the wham information. “ _The League of Assassins_?”

“Old term,” he says, trying to sound assuring but failing. “Traditional enough they don’t want to change it. They haven’t ‘assassinated’ anyone in years.”

“Some how that’s not very comforting,” Eddie tells him. He didn’t miss ‘years’ instead of ‘decades.’ “How’d you even find that out? I’m in the same House as her and she gives no indication she knows Eastern magic.”

Barry shrugs, digging his chin in his pillow. “I was bored and doing some digging at the Ministry when I went with Joe over the summer. I just happened to stumble on it and I asked her about it during the first Hufflepuff verses Slytherin match. She had been surprisingly receptive to telling me about it as long as I didn’t tell anyone else. Sara is the only other person who knows.”

“And now us,” Iris points out. “How receptive will she be if you ask her to be taught super-secret magic controlling techniques?”

He shrugs. “I have no idea.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’m not even sure that’s the right way to go. Everything about this seems wrong. Like, why would Wells stage an accident for this to happen? Did he mean to kill me or just make my magic the way it is? Either one, just _why?”_ His breathing hitches and and presses his face into the pillow again.

Eddie pulls him even closer and presses his cheek to the top of his head. “I don’t know,” he says quietly. “But we’ll figure it out, remember? We’ve got this.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, slightly muffled. “What would I do without you guys?”

“Crash and burn,” Iris says jokingly. She finally stops pacing and curls up on the couch on Barry’s other side, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re going to have to go to Defense class eventually,” she says softly.

Barry stiffens. “I know,” he says. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, every time I close my eyes I swear Wells is standing over me, laughing manically.” He groans in frustration. “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. It’s not like he had any direct responsibility to it. It’s just a spell misfire and his experiments. He didn’t push me into it with his own hands.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Eddie says slowly. That earns two twin looks of confusion. “Barry, you said it yourself third year, every week something bad happened in that class whether it was you or someone else. Ever since we started school. After you said that I started paying attention and every time it was someone else it was because you’d move and they were in your place. It just seemed odd at first, not every important, but now…now I think it’s very important.”

He raises an eyebrow, but there is a spark of _something_ in his eyes. “You think… you think Harrison Wells has been trying to kill me for six years? That’s a little excessive.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I haven’t even done anything. The most I did was become the kid whose dad _apparently_ had a mental breakdown and t-tortured his family. Maybe I accidently set fire to my neighbor’s prized roses when I was six. But that’s it. I’m being killed—murdered—over _roses?”_ His voice rises on the last word, going past borderline and straight into hysterical.

Iris rubs her hand on his back. “Shh,” she says gently. “Barry, relax. It’s just a theory, we have no proof.” The look she shoots Eddie, though, tells him she’s right on track with his thought.

Barry doesn’t calm down. The wind picks up and lightning flashes on the ceiling. It’s déjà vu all over again, an hour ago, a week ago, twice during his coma. The lights flicker and a chair picks up and flies across the room, smashing into the wall and shattering into a dozen pieces. Eddie feels a drop of rain on his cheek, then another, and it takes a few more before he realises it’s raining _sideways._

“Barry, please,” Iris pleads. “Calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself. You’re going to hurt one of us. Come on, please.”

Everything stops as quickly as it came and Eddie sighs in relief. Maybe talking to Nyssa is a good idea? He’ll broach the subject with her tonight before lights out.

“I’m sorry,” Barry says. He lurches from their cuddle and stumbles forward. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why I can’t control it. It just _happens.”_

They jump to their feet, Iris going to wrap her arms around him, holding him as his legs seems to want to give out in any second. Eddie stands in front of him, his hands gripping his shoulders tight. He ducks down a little, trying to meet Barry’s eyes even as he stares at the ground.

“ _Don’t_ apologize,” he says firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You love us, and we love you.” Iris nods sharply. “Nothing—and I really do mean _nothing—_ will keep us apart, you got that?”

Barry nods slightly, his gaze not leaving his toes. Eddie shakes him a little. “Barry, we love you. Okay?” He presses his finger on his chin and forces him to look up, to meet his gaze and see the sincerity in them.

Tears drip down his cheeks and he nods again, less hesitant this time. “I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

Iris cups his cheek and turns his head towards her so she can kiss him with all the force and love she has in her body (which, you know, is actually quite a lot). “And never doubt it,” she tells him.

Eddie wraps them both in his arms, wishing with all his heart that they could go back to the middle bit before that fateful day and _not_ have any of this happen. Barry sighs and drops his head on his shoulder, his hand reaching up to grip Iris’ tightly.

If only.


	3. Chapter 3

**vii.**

Barry feels the itching under his skin again and panic swells in his chest. He sort of staggers away from the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, his back hitting the wall opposite of it. He’s so glad right now that he attempted to go to class early, only because the hallway is empty of any witnesses to yet another breakdown. Really, he’s getting tired of them and pissed off that he has no control over the way his hands shake and how breathing suddenly gets harder.

            His bag hits the ground as he slides down the wall, his legs folding uncomfortably under him. He tucks one hand under his armpit and the other goes to his face, fingers splayed out. Maybe if he can’t see the door everything will be better?

            The stones against his back rattle ominously.

            Guess not.

            He can _feel_ someone crouch in front of him. The shifting air as their limbs move and their clothes rustle. He can _hear_ the spark of magic in their core, the humming of their wand, the singing if their soul. They touch the side of his knees gently with the tips of their fingers and it’s almost too much, he flinches. There’s a sigh.

            “Oh, Barry.”

            He chokes, breath catching in his chest. “ _Mom.”_

She pulls him closer and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having such a hard time?” she murmurs, petting his hair. She squeezes him once before pulling away and he can’t help but whimper. “Shh, shh.” She stands up, taking his bag with her. “Come on, let’s go to my office.”

            Barry stumbles, but his mom catches him and leads him down the hall. It takes a few minutes but they finally make it to her office just outside the greenhouses. She makes him sit on the two-seat couch, the cushions fluffy enough he almost sinks into them. He watches her drop his bag on her desk and busily make some tea with a coffee pot appropriated for tea (which probably explains why it keeps breaking). They watch it gurgle together for a couple seconds of comfortable silence.

            The first cup goes to him. He wraps his still shaking hands around it, eagerly soaking up the warmth, and takes a sip. It’s like every good childhood memory all rolled into one. He sighs happily.

            Mom laughs softly as she takes a seat next to him, her own cup in one hand and the other resting on the armrest. “Okay,” she says, tone serious. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having such a hard time? If you don’t think you can keep attending class with Dr. Wells I can see if Singh can assign you a private tutor for Defense class.”

            He shifts even deeper into the cushions, curling his shoulders in. “That’s only a little bit of the problem,” he says quietly. He waits to see if she’ll prompted him, though it’s a useless wait because his mom has only ever prompted him with silence. Always go at your own pace.

Barry takes a deep breath and launches into the story. He tells her about the magic attacks and Nyssa (who agreed to teach him binding spells, but nothing really more until she could talk to her dad) and their theory about Dr. Wells. She stiffens at the small mention of his dad, but doesn’t get that look in her eye that he’s always scared will come back and she’ll leave him again.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says at the end, fiddling with his cup more than drinking from it.

She sighs again and pulls him into a hug. He balances his tea out of the way, but sinks into it. He missed hugs. He loves hugs. There’s the clinking sound of her setting down her tea and she uses both arms to hug him.

“I know I’m suppose to give great motherly advice at this point,” she says. He huffs a laugh. “But I don’t have any. This isn’t about dating—the most you needed was when you were worried that you liked _two_ people instead of one—and this isn’t about school. This is something more powerful than I could ever imagine.” She rests her cheek on his head. “But I can tell you this: do what you think is right. Whether that’s binding your magic with Ra’s al Ghul’s technique or letting your magic run wild with your own version of control. You’re a good person, Barry; you won’t let yourself hurt anyone whether it’s on purpose or by accident.” She pulls away and puts her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye. “Either way you choose, you will do great things.”

Barry smiles brightly, warmth flooding through him. He has the best people in his life. The greatest. What would he do without them?

“I’ll do you proud,” he says.

She shakes her head. “Don’t do _me_ proud,” she tells him. “Do yourself proud. I have no doubt in my mind whatever you choose to do, there are dozens of people willing to stand behind you.” She kisses his forehead, like how she use to do when he was a kid—a kid-kid, back when he had a dad who loved him and both his parents tucked him in at night.

He soaks up the good feelings, his mind going a mile a minute with ideas and plans. He could do it, possibly?

 

**viii.**

“Did you hear?” Felicity’s voice rings true and loud in the Dining Hall. Everyone _not_ paying attention to the Hufflepuff table suddenly is. She sinks a little under the attention, but when she spots Iris and Caitlin she brightens back up again. “Did you hear?” she repeats.

            “Hear what?” Caitlin asks. The Ravenclaw taps her boyfriend as they pass the Gryffindor table before sitting down next to Felicity. The idea of House rivalries in anything but Quidditch is ridiculous and archaic.

            Felicity bounces in her chair and Iris can’t help but laugh. She’s like a kid in a candy shop; probably one of the reasons Barry likes hanging out with her so much. They both get unbelievably excited about things.

Eddie and Barry both refused to get up this morning and she refuses to miss breakfast. They only let her out of the cuddle fest when she promised to bring them both food and Barry some potion for the freezer burn that just won’t heal despite the fact everything else did in a matter of minutes.

            Damn that wizard and his weird affinity for ice magic. What did Cisco call him back when they could only sit there and listen to the broadcasts about wizards revealing themselves and terrorizing people? Captain Cold? It’s appropriate.

            “The Man in Red,” she says in a rush. “He took down another criminal. Leonard Snart. That’s, what, four in two months? I don’t understand, he practically curb stomps them. He’s got so much magic.”

            Iris’ puffs out despite herself, feeling an inordinate amount of pride for her boyfriend. When Barry had first told them about his plans to curb the increase of magic-based crimes in the tri-state area she had initially balked at the idea. He couldn’t control his magic, what made him think he could fight crime with it? She swallowed her worry, though, and two months later Barry’s making a name for himself as a hero—albeit with a code name. Not one he picked, but The Man in Red due to the fact he’s worn a red hoodie to each fight.

            He doesn’t have full control, not even close. About half of the damage caused to buildings was because his magic got away from him for the briefest of seconds. But he’s doing _good_ , and, to be honest, he hasn’t had another breakdown in a month.

            “Who is he, I wonder,” Caitlin says. She smiles brightly at Ronnie when he makes his way over. He fist bumps Ray Palmer before shoving a biscuit in his mouth. “I don’t think there’s any records with someone with magic like that.”

            “Like what?” Ray asks. “All I see is a dude who’s taking down criminals with the same kind of magic we have.”

            She shakes her head. “He’s doing _wandless_ magic. How many people do you know can do consecutive spells like that without a wand? A wand is conduit, it helps you expand and control your spells. Without it that thing you try to shrink? It’ll either shrink too much, shrink not enough, or _explode.”_

Ray turns green before busying himself with his oatmeal. Felicity snorts and pats his shoulder consoling. Iris raises an eyebrow at the blonde Hufflepuff, but she just gets s shrug in response.

            “Are you sure there isn’t a record of someone with that kind of magic?” Iris asks. “How do you know?”

            She smirks. “I’ve looked at the records at St. Teresa’s. It’s an archive of all in the records from every hospital in the world, all of them have it. Magic like that can cause massive damage and there’s no one in the record book.” She shrugs. “Okay, maybe one in the last five hundred years, but even wizards die before they hit that age, let alone dying with that much magic raging around.”

            Iris kind of feels sick at the mention of ‘die.’ Is that…is that going to happen to Barry?

            Speaking of, Barry comes shuffling in at that moment, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. It took them until last week to finally have him comfortable enough in his own skin to have meals with everyone else again, but he’s still usually reluctant.

            He brightens up when he sees her and he hurries over. He kisses her softly, snaking a hand to steal a piece of her bacon. She slaps his hand lightly, but he just pops the food in his mouth, chewing loudly and grinning smugly at her. She rolls her eyes, especially when he presses a syrup-sticky kiss to her cheek.

            “Ugh, you guys are sickeningly sweet,” Felicity says, but she’s smiling. “Where’s Eddie?”

            Barry shrugs before reaching out to make his own bowl of oatmeal. “He said he wanted to talk to Sara about something. They wandered off and wouldn’t let me follow. I think they went to go find Nyssa.”

            Iris raises an eyebrow. “Really? That’s weird.” They usually talk to Nyssa together; she wonders what he’s planning.

            “Tell me about it,” he says. “I’m sure Eddie knows what he’s doing. He usually does.” He thinks about it for a second. “Okay, no he doesn’t.”

            “No more than you,” Iris teases.

He makes a face at her before shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth; his sleeve falls to reveal his wrist and the rough patch of ice burn still there. Felicity gasps and Caitlin snags his sweatshirt, yanking his arm closer to her.

“What did you do?” she demands, her voice pitching high at the end.

Barry yanks his arm back, shoving it under the table. His eyes are wide and he’s staring at Caitlin with so much terror it takes Iris’ breath away. It can’t be because she’s noticed a wound from his heroic actions, no, no this is from the fact that she just _grabbed_ him without thinking. This is about the fact that he’s still not completely stable, mentally, emotionally, magically.

Caitlin’s eyes widen in horror and she opens her mouth—probably to apologize—but she never gets the chance because he shoves away from the table. The chair lets out an almighty screech and everyone’s attention is grabbed yet again. Iris jumps to her feet as he stumbles on trembling legs, staggering against the table. His breathing is erratic and his whole body is shaking.

“Barry—,” Iris tries

“What’s wrong with him?” Ray asks.

Caitlin climbs to her feet as well, but she stands back. Iris appreciates the fact she’s realised she did something while not wrong, it also wasn’t right. Her appreciation has to take the back burner though because she can see the wisps of smoke hovering around Barry, the chandelier above them is shaking ever-so-slightly—everyone’s too caught up in Barry to see it—and there’s the faint rattling of china.

She inches a little closer, her hands out like he’s a frightened, injured animal who’s seconds away from bolting (which isn’t quite an exaggeration). “Barry,” she says quietly. “Hey, let’s get out of here, huh?” She glances around. “You don’t want to lose it around all these people, do you?” She feels a little guilty saying it like that, but she knows nothing with crack through that panic.

Barry clamps a hand around her bicep, squeezing almost too tightly but she lets it slide. “I-Iris,” he chokes out, his eyes desperate and pleading.

Iris nods, gripping his wrist and twisting her body around so she can wrap one arm around his shoulders to guide him out. “Come on,” she says softly. “Ignore everything else. Everyone else.”

He muffles a sob with his hand and she helps him stagger out of the Dining Hall, the eyes of hundreds of students staring at them like they’re sideshow attractions.

She glances back, bypassing all the students and their friends to meet the eyes of Dr. Wells. There’s something cold in that gaze that makes her both feels like she’s been doused with ice water and sick to her stomach. He raises an eyebrow and smirks, and she has to turn away.

Barry sobs again and she holds him as close as possible. “I’ve got you, Barry,” she murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

           

            **[06.2024.]**

“Oliver!” Laurel shouts. “Blast it, damnit!”

            Oliver concentrates, feels the energy forming, his body warm, then the creature suddenly (or not so suddenly) explodes, showing the street in blood and guts. Kendra's somewhere on top of a building, throwing heavy curses down on the followers of the _cliché_ Dark Lord. Laurel is making good of her sound specialty, her charm around her neck letting her burst eardrums and rupture internal organs.

            There’s a _boom!_ a block away and fire burns into the sky, he winces and hopes Ronnie and Caitlin are okay. Iris is back to back with Felicity; both of them shooting spells like their lives depend on it. (Which it does). Nyssa and Sara are tag-teaming thirty different guys, Nyssa going for throats and Sara going for— _ouch_ —other certain soft spots. Roy and Thea. Cisco and Hartley. Ray and Linda.

            “How the hell did he find so many followers?” Diggle shouts, the ARGUS man sounds irritated and frustrated.

            Oliver ignores him, realising that while he did a run down of everyone on in their Order, there was one person he missed. “Where’s Barry?” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Iris falter, almost catching a spell in the shoulder. “Has anyone seen Barry?”

            There’s a general chorus of ‘no’ and ‘oh shit.’ That last one sounded like it came from Virgil, another ARGUS agent.

            Iris sounds panicked, terrified in his ear when she says, “Has anyone seen Thawne?”

            The answer is dead, somber silence when they all realise what has happened. Barry went after Thawne, _alone._

            “Damnit!” Iris shouts, throwing a curse at Mark Mardon that has him dropping to his knees screaming. “I _told_ him—I’m going to _kill_ him when I find him.” She whirls around, catching another follower—Mark’s brother, Clyde—off-guard and tossing him in the air against the side of a building. “We were suppose to do it _together._ ”

            “Iris, hold it together,” Lyla warns.

            But the other woman is obviously not listening, there’s a dark purple aura building around her. She puts her hand out and blasts Lenard Snart like he’s just a leaf in the wind. Oliver regrets ever letting her wear him down about teaching her the ways of the League of Assassins, but she had refused to let Barry go in it alone, especially with his uncontainable powers.

            There’s a flash of bright white light and two people come crashing down into the chaos that is an all out war. Everyone freezes, whether they’re ARGUS, or the Order, or one of the followers, they all freeze as the light fades away and the sun spots in their eyes disappear.

            Oliver blinks rapidly, his eyes widening when he sees Barry and Eobard Thawne facing off in the middle of the street. They both look beaten beyond measure; it’s amazing either of them are standing. Rubble and rocks shake, rattle, and float in the air, controlled by Barry’s magic subconsciously. He’s glaring at the man who’s ruined so many lives, a strong level of hate he’s never seen in his friend’s eyes before.

            “You’re too late,” Thawne taunts mercilessly. “You’re always too late. I’ve taken everything from you already and yet you keep coming back for more.” He glances over to look at Iris. “Well, not _everything_ , but I’m sure I can fix that.”

            Barry shouts a guttural, “ _No!”_ and lunges forward, catching Thawne around the waist in a brutal tackle, abandoning all magic. “You sonovabitch!”

            “Barry!” Iris screams.

The other man can’t hear her, or he ignores her—he pulls a fist back and punches Thawne in the fast once, twice, three times until he’s thrown off by a wave of magic. He goes skittering across the ground, bouncing like a rock across a lake, until he slams into a parked car.

Oliver tries to throw some magic into the fray, but whatever made Thawne so powerful brushes away his spell like it’s nothing. The dark wizard rises to his feet and stalks forward at a comically slow pace, Oliver could laugh out loud if it weren’t for the dire circumstances.

“I took your mom from you,” Thawne says. “I took your dad from you. I took your boyfriend from you. Now I just need your girlfriend.” He glances over, again, at Iris, smirking. “I think I know just _when_ to do it, too.”

He puts his hands together and shifts his feet farther apart, his shoulders straighten and he starts…he starts to _hum?_ Even with the fighting still stopped, all of them too enraptured by the battle between two of the most powerful wizards in the country—possibly the world—the strange humming almost gets lost in the wind.

Barry struggles to his feet, his arm giving out before he catches himself then his knee buckling before he grabs onto a lamppost to help him up. His lips are moving, but Oliver can’t hear what he’s saying. It could be a prayer, it could be a spell, but as the humming gets louder and the wind starts to pick up, it becomes obvious it really is a spell.

Light forms at Thawne’s hands and expands out, engulfing him. Barry takes a shaking step and then another, his words picking up, fast and loud. At the last possible second, before Thawne’s consumed completely by the light, Barry lurches forward and grabs the dark wizard’s arms.

“No!” Thawne shouts, rage making his words shake. “ _No!_ You’ll ruin everything! You’ll send us to a different—.”

There’s a defending crack of sound, like a rolling thunder right after lightning, and the spot where they once stood is now empty except for a smoking fissure in the ground.

_“Barry!”_


	4. Chapter 4

**ix.**

Barry takes a deep breath and concentrates on the target in front of him. It’s an old china set of his great-grandmother’s. His mom gave it to him specifically so he could destroy it and he has absolutely no problems with that, the creepy blue children’s eyes always followed him around as a kid. They’re in the top ten of his nightmares.

            He calls upon his power, drawing it from the core and the free magic around him, and targets only one china piece out of the seven. Barry counts to three and the tea cup explodes in a rush of power For a second he loses control of it, but he reins it back and manages to trap it.

            Iris cheers and claps. “Not only was the faster than last time,” she says as she moves to inspect the left over pieces of the set. “But there’s not even a crack on the other ones.” She beams at him. “Awesome!”

            Barry smiles brightly at her as Eddie wraps his arms around his waist and presses a kiss to his neck. The Slytherin murmurs a quiet congratulation in his ear. Barry shivers and grabs his hands, tangling their fingers together. Iris walks over and kisses him chastely, but doesn’t pull away, just stays there pressing her nose against his shoulder since she can’t stay on her tip-toes. She reaches up to run her fingers through Eddie’s hair, leaving her hand there.

            He hates to bring it up now, but he does anyway. “There’s been rumors of a rising Dark Lord.”

            “I know,” they say simultaneously. Barry’s back vibrates as Eddie lets out a rumbling laugh deep from his chest.

            “That’s one of the things I’ve been talking to Nyssa and Sara about,” Eddie says. Predictably, he immediately refuses to answer the question of what other things the Slytherins have been talking about. “Apparently Ra’s Al-Ghul and his League are all up in arms about it. Ra’s Al-Ghul was the one to deal with the last Dark Lord and he’s not happy about a new one.”

            “The Central City Picture News has connections to the ministry,” Iris says. “Dad took me there last weekend, remember? When the Man in Red was dealing with Bivolo?” She nudges Barry’s shoulder, pride in her expression and he can’t help but blush. “I convinced _the_ Mason Bridges to talk to me about it.”

            Now it’s Barry’s turn to explain how he knows and all he can say is: “ARGUS,” because he’s still bound by the Official Secrets Act thing he signed in third year when he, Felicity, Cisco, and Ray managed to hack their systems during a field trip. ARGUS also all for of them plus Caitlin and Hartley Rathaway jobs with them once they got out of school. It’s a thrilling thought, being sought out before you even graduate school.

            “Of course,” Iris says, scoffing teasingly. She wrinkles her nose at him before kissing him again.

            “Are they doing anything about it?” Eddie asks. He’s leaning his full weight against Barry now, forcing him to lean back to create a counterbalance.

            “Probably,” he answers, careful not to shrug. “Not that they will tell me for sure. Lyla just warned me because of my magic issue and how that might make be a target. One of the agents implied they have no idea who it is, but the out of control witches and wizards the Man in Red have fought and will fight might be followers of them.”

            “Guess you’ll have to keep an eye out for clues next time the Man in Red goes out for a fight,” Eddie says.

            Barry makes a face, it’s weird referring to himself in the third person and even weirder when Eddie and Iris do it when he’s standing right there. “Guess so.”

            “Now that this information exchange has ended,” Iris says, pulling away. “Let’s blow up another one. The plate with the overly big design of the creepy blue children, please. Their eyes have been following me this whole time.”

            Barry laughs. “I know the feeling.” He dislodges Eddie’s comfortable weight reluctantly and throws out the magic without a second thought, testing.

            He whoops when only the plate shatters into dust. Barry whirls around and plants a kiss on the surprised Eddie who made it only a few inches away before he cast his spell. He smiles at Barry dopily when they part and Barry admits his smile it just as goofy.

 

            **x.**

Eddie chokes and drops to his knees, swaying. He can hear Iris screaming his name and Barry shouting ‘What did you do?’ Hands grab at his shoulders, easing him to the ground, his head cradled in someone’s lap. He looks up through hazy vision to see a blurred Iris bowed over him, her hands framing his face, and her eyes wide in horror. He grins up at her and she just starts crying silently.

            “It’s okay,” he mumbles, reaching up with a clumsy hand to pat her arm. “All a part of the plan.”

            “What plan?” Iris sobs, sounding both close to tears and close to smacking him. “What plan did you Slytherins come up with? Tell me before Barry succeeds in killing Nyssa.”

            Eddie lets his head roll to see Barry throwing spell after spell at the Heir to the Demon and Nyssa casting powerful shield spells and calling up natural barriers to block him. He’s not taking into account how fast and trained she is, Nyssa’s able to physically doge his attacks by paying attention to his body movements. It’s obvious. Except there is a darkness gathering around Barry, the control he’s so carefully gained is slowly unweaving.

            Pain sparks in his chest, but he heaves himself up from Iris’ comforting lap and stumbles to his feet. Iris follows him up, gripping the shirt on the back of his shoulder and pressing her hand under his ribs.

            “Barry,” he calls, but his voice is too small and breaks hi boyfriend’s name in half. He coughs and tries again. “Barry, stop!” Oh, thank you, it’s so much strong this time. “I’m fine!”

            He stops mid-spell and whirls around, eyes wide. He moves so fast to Eddie’s side he’s practically flying. “Are you okay?”

            Eddie winces, but nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was expected.” He rubs his chest then chests to see if he can breath deeply and coughs when he leans he can’t. “That my have been but the two of you showing up wasn’t at all.”

            “Is _this_ what you’ve been planning with Nyssa and Sara?” Iris asks. “What ever this is?”

            “You’re included too, Iris,” Nyssa says suddenly. Eddie jumps, having not expected her to contribute, and groans quietly in pain. “Eddie went first because I see him more often and he was worried it would be too dangerous. It didn’t work for him since his family is known for a special brand of magic and it clashed. We devised something else. It should worse for you, though, since you’re a half-blood.”

            “Will _what_ work?” Barry demands, sounding hysterical. “What did you almost kill yourself for, Eddie?”

            “I wasn’t dying,” he assures him.

            “ _It looked like it_ ,” he practically roars, the lights on the ceiling rattling ominously. “It looked like you and Nyssa thought you killing yourself was the perfect secret to keep from us.” He grabs Eddie’s shoulders and shakes him slightly. “You _can’t_ do that. _I can’t lose either of you_.”

            He’s startled to see tears in Barry’s eyes. Did it really look that bad? He glances over to Iris to see her cheeks glistening and her chin trembling. His heart breaks— _oh_. He had been so focused on a way to be there for Barry and find a way to help him without getting his or Iris’ hopes up he didn’t think—.

            “I’m sorry.” Tears start dripping down his cheeks. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

            “What did you do?”

            “I wanted to learn Eastern Magic,” he says. “I wanted the three of us to go out and fight against this Dark Lord. I didn’t want Barry to do it alone. I tried to do it first to see the dangers so I could tell Iris about it so she could decide if she wanted to do or not, but it didn’t work.” He swallows. “Family magic and all. We figured out another way for me, but it was dangerous and painful. I didn’t want to worry you.”

            “Show me,” Iris demands, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

            Eddie shifts away, sucking in a breath at the pain, and pulls his shirt up to reveal the mark on his chest just over his heart. It looks like a tattoo, but it’s the brand of his family crest from the pendent that marks them the Thawnes.

            “It gives me a power boost,” he says quietly. “I won’t be as powerful as Barry, but I’m not a normal wizard anymore. This has only been done once in the family.”

            Barry touches it with the tips of his fingers, tracing it lightly. Eddie shivers and gasps, his nerves tingling. “Why?” he whispers.

            “I didn’t want you to do it alone,” he says again, firmer. Barry pulls down his shirt for him then envelopes him into a tight hug, tucking his face against Eddie’s neck and clinging to him.

            “Please don’t do that again,” he mumbles. “Please, please, _please._ ”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “What is your plan for me?” Iris asks. Eddie looks up to see her addressing Nyssa and he knows she’s going to be angry at him for a long while after this. “You said your magic will work for me.”

            Nyssa nods. “It’s the same concept for Eddie’s family crest, but with our designs.” She pulls on the collar of her shirt to show a tattoo on her shoulder. “Our magic didn’t mesh with his. We need to find you a name, something that makes you feel the power in your veins and the magic in the air.” She smiles slightly. “We’ll work on that later.” She jerks her chin to Eddie and Barry, who are still wrapped up in each other.

            Eddie doesn’t want to let go of him, not when he’s sobbing like that, but he has to in order to reach out to Iris and pull her into a hug that’s just as tight. She sighs and sags against him, clutching at his back.

            “Don’t ever do that again.”

            “I’m so sorry.”

            His knees buckle and his chest blossoms in pain, he moans and doubles over. Iris catches him before he hits the ground.

            “He’ll be better by morning,” he hears Nyssa say. Iris eases him to his knees, cradling him against her. “Just don’t let him to anything too physical.”

            Iris snorts. “Oh, I can assure you, he’s definitely not doing anything too physical in the near future.” And doesn’t that just suck?

            Barry wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist and pulls his arms over his shoulders. The Hufflepuff is a little taller than him, enough to make it awkward, but strong enough to heave him up. One of the downsides of the Room is that in order to change it completely, you have to leave it then come back in.

            “Come on,” he murmurs in his ear. “Let’s get you lying down.”

 

**[06.2022]**

Kendra shakes her head. “Nope, don’t believe you.”

            Iris frowns at her. “You’re an animagus attempt gone wrong and you have _wings,”_ she points out. “The first ever record of something being botched so spectacularly you’re mistaken for divinity, yet you find time travel to be fictional?”

            She pauses. “Okay, good point.”

            “What I think she’s saying,” Caitlin interjects. “Is with a Time-Turner you can go back a few days, maybe a month. You guys are proposing years, _decades.”_

            “I know,” Barry says, clutching his mug between two hands and staring at the dark liquid. Eddie wraps an arm around his shoulders, leaning against him slightly. Iris would smile at the sight if it weren’t for the terrible conversation topic. “But it’s true. Eobard’s doing this with some sort of mixture of different spells and magics related to time.” His eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks are stained with tears. “He killed my parents. I remember it so clearly and I don’t know how I missed it the first few years he was rising.”

            Felicity touches his wrist. “Hey, you were eleven. How were you suppose to know this charismatic ministry worker was a Dark Lord with a grudge against you?”

            “I don’t know why, though!” Barry looks up at all of them and Iris has to look away from the sheer, overwhelming confusion in his eyes. She walks around the table to rest her elbow on his shoulder and run her fingers through his hair. “He acts like we’ve been doing this more than two years, that this has been going on for decades. I don’t…I don’t think that’s possible.”

            “Winged girl here,” Kendra says, “talking about time travel with a man who uses Eastern Magic even though he has no claim to it, a woman using the same magic with the same no-claim, another man who’s powers are so next level he literally has no one to go against him unless someone steals magic, someone who can turn himself to fire, a woman who can turn into ice, and a dude who’s magic, no matter what he does, is fucking _blue_. I’m missing a few people but who cares.” She waves a dismissive hand. “My point it, you can’t try to convince me things are possible then start immediately doubting yourself. What we need to do is come up with a plan.”

            “We don’t know _his_ plans,” Oliver points out. “We can come up with plans and back up plans, but, in the end, they’re useless if we don’t have _some_ idea of what he’s thinking about. All we can guess is he likes tormenting Barry, but that’s not the signs of a Dark Lord, that’s just a sociopath.”

            Barry groans under his breath. Iris pulls up another seat and sits down, wrapping her arm through the crook of his elbow. He smiles at her and presses a kiss to her temple, then rests his forehead on her shoulder. Eddie takes her place of running his fingers through Barry’s hair, trailing down to press his thumbs into knots on his neck. Iris smiles prettily at him; she can’t believe how lucky they were to find such an amazing person on one of their trips to Keystone City. She and Barry had just happened to run into him in the KC Jitters and somehow they all ended up together and it _works._

She brushes a hand along Barry’s cheek. “You need to shave,” she says quietly, letting everyone else talk around them. “You’re not sixteen anymore with peach fuzz, you go a day and you look homeless.”

            He pokes her in the shoulder. “You’re mean.”

            “I think it looks great,” Eddie says, leaning over. “You look gorgeous, don’t listen to her.”

            Barry lifts his head to smile at their boyfriend. “I like you. We should date.”

            Eddie laughs. “Sorry, I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend.”

            He pouts. “I’m jealous. They’re so lucky.”

            Eddie hums and cups his cheeks. “Yes, they are very lucky.” He leans in to kiss him, but lets out a small, surprised yelp instead.

            Iris looks over and starts laughing. Barry had pinched Eddie’s ribs for being a smartass.

            “Menace,” Eddie mutters, rubbing his skin but smiling.

            Barry just gives him a cheeky grin and Eddie leans down again, this time succeeding in kissing him. Iris tunes back into the conversation only to learn that they’ve been going in circles this whole time. She sighs and rubs her eyes, her heart heavy.

            “Why don’t we leave this until we’ve had dinner, yeah?” she suggests. “Give our minds a break and refuel. We’ll meet back here at eleven.”

            There’s scattered verbal agreement, but everyone’s nodding and Cisco’s the first to get up, phone to his ear as he calls Laurel. Iris is sad the other woman missed the meeting, being stuck at ARGUS and all, and hopes she can make it to the second part of it.

            Barry takes her hand, tangling their fingers together, and leads her out of the building. Eddie has is arm wrapped around his waist, pressed close together. She grins and snuggles close to Barry’s side, almost tripping him before he realizes what he’s trying to do.

            It’s been a while since the three of them could go on a date together, no one else and free of distractions. She misses the days without a Dark Lord’s presence hovering over them and wishes they had met Eddie before any of this had happened. She wonders if their lives would’ve been different, would they have never gotten together? Would her and Barry never go to Keystone, or maybe they would have but they just walked by KC Jitters?

            “Whatcha thinking about?” Eddie asks.

            She smiles at them. “You guys. Life.”

            “Heavy thoughts.”

            “Yeah, well, I was wonderin—.”

She never gets the chance to explain how happy she is because an exploding building sends them flying. Her lungs seize and her skin burns, crackling against the fire. Her back hits something hard and she cries out, tumbling to the ground. Iris heaves herself to her knees, one of her wrists giving out before she catches herself.

Everything is blurry, unfocused, and _burning_. People are screaming, crying. She blinks and a shot of light appears, catching a woman in the back and sending her to the ground. Iris looks, a wizard. A wizard that looks like Eobard. Her jaw drops and her eyes widen. She’s never seen Eobard in person before, it’s always been in candid pictures.

Why is he here, now?

She shakes her head and struggles to her feet. Where are Eddie and Barry? She takes a few stumbling steps before she sees them, feet apart from each other in some rubble. She sighs in relief until she sees Eobard raise his hand and her blood goes ice cold. No, Barry!

Iris tries to go in a run, but her feet move as slow as molasses. She tries to shout Barry’s name, but it catches in her throat.

Eobard turns his head slightly and meets her eyes, his lips turning into a dark smile. He waggles a finger at her then turns back, throwing a brightly colored spell in her boys’ direction. She lunges forward and screams when it connects to Eddie’s chest solidly. Barry’s screaming echoing hers perfectly.

_“Eddie!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >   
> _Burning Cities Melt Hearts_  
>  He takes it, his smile going from assuring to confused, and then she brushes past him, slipping two fingers into his pocket for a wallet. 
>> 
>> Linda meets her around the corner, fuming and outrageously annoyed. “Are you insane?” she hisses.
>> 
>> “What? I was just making small talk.”
>> 
>> “You’re a _criminal._ He’s a _fed!_ He could’ve arrested you without so much as a word.”
>> 
>> Iris waves away the concern. “He’s has no probable cause. And, technically, he would have to say a word considering my Miranda Rights. I was fine.” She holds up the wallet with a smirk. “But look what I got.”
>> 
>> _“Iris!”_
>> 
>> She opens it, perusing through the credit and membership cards, and purposely avoids the license sitting in front of a military ID until the last minute. When she gets to them she’s greeted with an amazing smile and a name.
>> 
>> _Eobard Malcolm Thawne._
>> 
>> She wrinkles her nose. “He loses a few points,” she tells Linda even as the other woman is tugging on her arm for her to start walking. “He’s got an old-time, rich white person’s name. Eobard.” Ugh, even saying it out loud makes it sound gross.  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> either one or two chapters left after this!  
> See end chapter notes for timelines.

**x.**

Iris is with Nyssa and apparently it’s something he can’t interrupt and Eddie is with Sara and that’s also something he can’t interrupt. He feels a little lost without the two of them near and he’s glad the hallways are empty because someone would definitely ask him if he feels alright and he’s pretty sure he does—just lost without his two anchors.

            He turns down another hallway and pauses, hesitating. The DADA classroom is down here, should he go? He’s been with a private tutor all year; he hasn’t stepped down the same hallway ever since his mom found him here. No one should be here, it’s dinnertime and the Dining Hall was pack last he checked. No witnesses to another freak out.

            Barry takes a deep breath. At one point in his life he needs to get over his fears, for all he knows Dr. Wells could not be the teacher next year (oh he’s hoping) and he needs to not be scared of a classroom in order to go to class again with the new teacher.

            He shoves his hands in his pockets and his shoulders curl to his ears. He takes one slow step, then another, until he ambling down the hall. He could pause for a minute in front of the door, go over that obstacle first then tackle the rest later. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

            It sounds less like a good idea when he’s standing in front of the door and he can feel his heart pounding, his throat closing up. He takes his shaking hands out of his pockets and presses his fingers to his eyes, dragging them down his cheeks. No, no, he can do this. He _has_ to do this. Iris and Eddie haven’t said anything, _yet,_ but he knows that they’re gettin tired of his constant freak-outs and inability to control himself. He loves them; he doesn’t want to continue to subject them to it. Even his mom seems to be getting tired of them, especially since his only six years had been when his panic attacks about his dad subsided.

            But he _can’t help it_. Just thinking about all the things he missed these past six years, all the dark looks and close calls and not-so-close calls, and he has no proof of it. Eddie had been right, all the accidents didn’t seems like accidents, especially when they always happened to him. And standing here, in front of this door, just brings it back, and he swears to God there’s something _wrong_ with that fucking door.

            He blinks and steps away. Okay, no, there _really is_ something wrong with the door. It can’t be his imagination that there’s black goo oozing from underneath the wood, glittering like a clear night sky. He rubs his eyes and shakes his head, but when he looks again it’s still there.

            Barry takes a step forward and crouches down, reaching out to press his fingers to it slowly. The goo drips then consumes it fingers, he can feel it, white hot then ice cold. He yanks his hand back and there’s nothing on his hand.

            A hallucination?

            Then, suddenly, he can’t feel his whole arm.

            He jerks away in surprise and slams into one of the load baring columns peppered throughout the school. His shoulder flares in pain, but soon he can’t feel that either as the strange, cold numbness travels from one shoulder, across his chest, to his other shoulder. It goes to his throat and his stomach, his knees weakening. He curls up against the column, letting out a little whimper.

            If this is what overcoming his fears leads to, he really doesn’t want to do it anymore.

            He hears footsteps just behind him and, for a moment, he thinks it his mom, just like a few months ago back when this whole thing started. It isn’t until unease trickles down his spine and the person says nothing does he realise something is terribly, terribly wrong.

            “Barry Allen. _Finally_.”

            He swallows thickly and forces his neck to move to look around. Harrison Wells stands there, a dark, cold look in his eyes. The professor yanks Barry up by the arm, making him cry out as his nerves catch light, and he drags him into the classroom, slamming him into a chair.

            “I don’t understand how you keep getting in the way,” he says, sounding frustrated. Barry’s eyes widen and he wills himself to throw a spell out, but nothing happens. Panic grips him—this is the first time he’s never been able to reach his magic. Wells raises an eyebrow at him expectantly. “Well? How do you do it?”

            Barry shakes his head, his hands trembling. He still can’t feel them. “I don’t k-know what you’re t-talking a-about,” he says, his voice wavering.

“You ruined _everything_!” Harrison Wells _slams_ his hands on the table, making Barry jump. His vision wavers and his stomach rolls, but his magic is still out of his reach. There’s a dark, terrible look in the man’s eyes as he stalks around and looms over Barry. “Years, for _years_ I worked on my magic, on my followers, to get to the point of being the first Dark Lord in centuries. I was _so_ close to it too.” He clamps a hand on Barry’s shoulder, his fingers digging into his skin, and leans in close until they’re eye to eye. “Until _you_ came along. You and your little Order of Justice. You had to pick the campiest name to go with didn’t you?”

Barry swallows thickly, unable to look away from the spark of madness in the professor’s eyes. _This_ man has taught _children_ for ten years.

Wells releases his shoulder and pats his head like he’s some sort of dog. His gaze settles on something in the distance. “Two years after graduating, Oliver Queen plans a trip around the world with his father, but, instead, he disappears for five years,” he begins as if he’s a storyteller putting on a show for an audience. “When he comes back, he’s different. He’s dark and gloomy, but his magic. Oh his magic.” He smiles, almost giddy. “You’re all taught Western magic, all wands and magic words. But Mr. Queen, he learned beyond his upbringing, beyond his Pureblood ways. He learned Eastern Magic, of all kinds, from the League of Assassins.” He taps his chest, right over his heart. “He found a way to access his magic in a way most people would never think of.       

“ _You,_ on the other hand.” He’s back to squeezing Barry’s shoulder tight, sparks at his fingertips. “Two years after he returns, _you_ get into an accident at the Ministry that causes you to have uncontrolled access to your magic. Oliver Queen may have had—or will have, as the case may be—unique access, you had _all_ of the access.”

Barry resists the urge to laugh at the what’s probably an unintentional reference to a joke, it’s totally not appropriate and he’s still a little (read: a lot) terrified.

“Your Iris figures it out first, who I was,” he says. “In every timeline. And then you had the privilege of meeting my nephew. It all went down hill from there. You got all your little friends together and you _fought back_.”

Barry blinks rapidly, shaking his head. “I don’t understand,” he whispers, his breath taken away from him by the man in front of him.

“ _Of course_ you don’t!” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air. “You’re dumb as a brick sometimes, Barry. I don’t understand how you learned what I was doing, how you learned I was messing with your time line or even how I was doing it. I was trying to _break_ you, _keep_ you from getting your magic. And you know what?” He leans in close, practically nose to nose with Barry. “ _I_ fucking _won.”_

“No you didn’t,” Barry says automatically.

Wells throws his head back and laughs out loud. “Oh, yes I did. I killed your parents in the second time line, but that just prompted you to go to the ministry. I killed your mom only, in the third one, and you still did it. I killed your boyfriend in the second too, but that just made you angrier.” Oh, God. _Eddie_. “You just coming back for more. And then, I figured it out. I let your parents live, just like the original, except I made Joe West move somewhere else with the death of his wife so you never met your Iris and you never get _any_ inspiration to help people. I convinced my brother to move back to France instead of Keystone so you never meet your Eddie. I had it all set out and you never had your accident, you were just a meek little professor. This was try number five.”

He swallows, unable to comprehend a life without Eddie and Iris. Burning anger sparks low in his chest at the idea that this man has killed _any_ of his loved ones, this timeline or not.

“But it didn’t work,” he says frustrated. “I won, but it _didn’t fucking work._ ” He runs a hand through his hair. “I was powerful, I could steal magic, but it wasn’t enough. It took me a few years of trying to take over Africa before I realised that even though I could steal magic, _your_ magic and the bottomless pit of your core was what made me so powerful. I couldn’t beat you, but without you I couldn’t win. So, my planned turned to this: break you and then give you your access so I could take it without you interfering. Of course you had to be a little shit and ruin that plan too.”

Even as his head swims with the amount of information and conflicting, different timelines, Barry can’t help but smile smugly in response to that. He has no idea what he did, but _ha!_ Wells glares at him and grabs his shoulder again, except this time instead of white sparks of magic at his fingertips Barry cries out in pain as a spell washes over him. His body stiffens and his limbs jerk uncoordinatedly. It feels like a Cruciatus all over again, only much, much worse.

“I went back in time, tried the beginning of the second one again,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. Barry can barely hear him over the blood rushing in his ears and the faint electrical sound of magic in the air. “Killed your parents, killed your boyfriend. I was planning on going back and killing your girlfriend this time too, something different, but you pulled out a new trick, you interfered with my spell and sent us back one hour before I killed your parents. We fought in your house that day, you and your parents were out for dinner. I had ambushed them when you came home, in the second one. This time, though. I made your dad torture you and your mom while my enemy had to sit there and watch helplessly.” 

Barry shakes his head. No, he would remember this. He doesn’t remember two other people in his house. Just his dad advancing on them with a crazed look in his eye. He’d cast Cruciatus on him first as his mom screamed at his dad and tried to hit him to get him away. He was only eleven and it hurt _so much._ He remembers ten seconds of that curse had been enough to knock him down for the count, he couldn’t move as his mom endured thirty seconds. It had felt like forever before his dad dropped his wand then fell to his knees, crying, babbling about how sorry he was, but it hadn’t been enough.

There were three people than night. Not five.

“Memory modification and Imperius Curse,” Wells says fondly. “I had gotten the upper hand and broke my Barry’s legs, both of them at the thigh. It was a pain in the ass; do you know how hard it is to break thighbones? He sat on your couch, crying, as I forced his dad to torture you and your mom. Let me tell you, that was the best part.”

He closes his eyes, a tear streaking down his cheek. He can’t move, he can’t feel, he can’t think, can’t breathe. He’s so lost right now, lost and alone and he doesn’t know what to do. Confused.

            There’s so much information yet so many unanswered questions and things that don’t make sense.

            Guess the number one is: _why_?

            His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Wells jerks, eyes wide, but he never gets the chance to open it before it’s being blasted across the room. Iris stands at the doorway, her eyes dark and her hair wild, her hands glowing a dark purple to match the mark he can see peeking over the collar of her shirt. Eddie stands just a little behind her, eyes a bright, unnatural blue.

            “You better let the _fuck_ go of our boyfriend.”

**xi.**

The battle destroys the entire Defense corridor.

Iris swears lightly and kicks a broken chair across the room. Harrison Wells got away—that fucker—and Iris has never felt the urge to kill someone so strongly before. She walks past Nora trying to pull away from Caitlin as the Ravenclaw dabs at the large split in the older woman’s face, her arm is cradled to her chest and bent at an awkward angle.

She finds Eddie and Barry in a corner, hidden by part of the wall that crumbled down. A spell is holding it partially up—she eyes it warily, spells can fail. She shakes her head and focuses on her boyfriends, Eddie’s sitting cross-legged on the ground while Barry flitters around him, dabbing at scrapes on his face. It’s an adorable sight, what with Eddie’s fond, indulging smile and the concerned furrow of Barry’s eyebrows, but something just seems…off about it.

When they had busted down the door Barry looked nothing like the boyfriend she’s use to. He looked _broken_ —it had been beyond overwhelming magic and panic attacks. This had been different; he didn’t even dodge out of the way when Wells launched an attack first at her and Eddie. But now, he’s acting like this is any normal day and Eddie just happened to trip while in the woods for Care for Magical Creatures.

Eddie meets her eyes over Barry’s head and she realises he sees it too: this isn’t right. This isn’t Barry. Barry wears his heart on his sleeve and is quick to portraying what he’s feeling. That sure thing hasn’t been the case lately, but that is usually with other people, not them.

Iris makes her way closer, lightly pressing her hand to the small of Barry’s back in warning that she’s right there. He jumps anyway, turning a little to give her a smile—there’s relief in there, muted panic, and something else she can’t read.

“Are you okay?” he asks, words breathless and wavering. He cups her cheek, swiping his thumb over dust on her skin, and grabs her elbow gently. “Are you okay?” he repeats when she doesn’t answer fast enough.

“I’m fine,” she says. “I promise. What about you?” She can’t see any visible wounds minus a cut on his forehead that’s already clotted, but that doesn’t mean anything. They still don’t know what Wells did to him.

He waves a hand dismissively. “I’m perfectly perfect. I’m more worried about the two of you.”

Iris puts her hand over the one cupping her cheek, leaning into it a bit more. “Barry,” she says softly. “There’s no one else around. You’re not fine. What’s wrong?”

Barry shakes his head mutely, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and pulls away. Iris hurriedly grabs him before he gets to far. She exchanges alarmed looks with Eddie; even if Barry doesn’t want to share he doesn’t usually pull away like that. Eddie climbs to his feet, block Barry from backing up even more but doesn’t crowd him.

“You know you can talk to us,” Eddie says encouragingly. “But, hey, if you want to hold off, think through whatever you’re thinking about, you know we’ll be here to listen, right?”

Tears well up in Barry’s eyes, but they don’t fall. He lunges to grip Eddie in a bone-crushing hug. The Slytherin gasps as the force, but wraps his arm around him equally tight. Iris kind of waves her hands around uselessly, she wants to hug him so badly but doesn’t want him to be too crowded.

“He killed you,” Barry whispers so quietly Iris almost doesn’t hear it. Eddie’s eyes widen. “He killed my parents and he killed you, he was going to kill Iris but I stopped him. I don’t know how. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Eddie shushes him, rubbing his hands up and down his back. From this point of view Iris can see Barry’s shoulders shaking, his knees trembling. She comes up to the side of them and touches their arms, tugging on Eddie’s sleeve to urge him to the ground.

“I’m alive,” Eddie says. “Your parents are alive. Iris is still here and isn’t going anywhere.”

“He’s a time traveler.” Barry lets out a sob, it sounds more frightened than sad. “He said he’s a fucking time traveler. How the hell am I suppose to go against that?”

“With us,” Iris says firmly. “You go against that with the two of us by your side. Now we know he’s capable of it and he’s capable of killing. We’re a step ahead.”

Barry throws himself from their grip, scrambling back. “You don’t get it,” he says hysterically. “He said he’s been doing this for _years_. There’s about five, six, seven separate timelines out there that he’s inferred with my life to bend it to his will. He wants me _broken_ so he can steal my magic with no fight back. He doesn’t need to go back in time for this, he jumped started my magic. _Oliver Queen_ was suppose to be ahead of me. He’s already killed all of you! He knows exactly how to do it and I’m too inexperienced to keep him away. If a future me can’t do it, then how can I?”

“Hey!” Iris is surprised by Eddie’s raised voice just as much as he looks like he is as well. “We don’t know when you ‘future you’ got your magic access. He could’ve had the same amount of experience as you do know for all we know. We don’t know what kind of magic we might have had in the future, in these time lines. We could possibly have magic he’s never seen before.” He raises his hand and lets his fingers spark gold. They had all been surprised it hadn’t been blue, but Nyssa guessed it might have been a result of Barry’s influence. “You can’t pull away. We’re in this together.”

Iris climbs to her feet and approaches him slowly. Barry’s eyes are wide and panicked. “You love us enough to take this on your own,” she says. “Do you love us enough to take our help? To keep us together? One love is stronger than the other, which one?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he chokes out.

Eddie snorts. “Wells already knows who we are and how much we mean to you. With you or not, we can, could get hurt. I’d rather get hurt when I’m with you.”

Barry clamps a hand over his mouth for a sob before shakily bringing his hand back down to say, “I love you guys, so much.” He covers his face as Iris drops to hug him around the shoulders tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“You guys don’t deserve any of this.”

“ _Oh, Barry_. Neither do you.”

 

**[06.2020]**

Iris laughs as Barry holds the door to KC Jitters open for her. He winks and follows her in, trotting off to find them a table in the rather crowded coffee shop. She stands in line, patiently waiting as the baristas work as fast as they can to appease the grumbling crowd. She worked at the CC Jitters after they got out of school, her magic making the job so much easier as she split time between work and studying for university.

            Unfortunately, the war made it hard to keep up with both.

            When she turns away from the counter, two coffees in hand, she’s surprised to see a blonde man at their table and talking to Barry. Her Barry has a frown on his face, but it’s more thoughtful than anything else. He looks up and catches her eye, waving her over.

            “Iris!” He accepts his coffee with a kiss to her cheek. “This is Eddie. He’s been looking for us, apparently.” She gives both of them a sharp look and he waves it off. “Not like that. Explain.” He gestures for Eddie to speak.

            His cheeks are an adorable pink and his eyes are a piercing blue. Oh, God. He’s so attractive. She shakes herself. _Focus, Iris._ “My name is Eobard Thawne,” he says and Iris jerks back. She would’ve gotten farther, but Barry’s hand is on the small of her back, open palmed and firm. “It’s a family name,” he continues. “My uncle. He’s this dark lord.”

            “How do you know?”

            He grimaces. “He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is. I saw the news report with the picture. I’d recognize him anywhere.” He shrugs. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, though, my family moved just out of the district lines to go to the school you two went to and our tri-state area had a different ministry.” He pauses for a split second before blurting out: “I want to help.”

            Iris raises an eyebrow. “You want to help? How do we know you’re not a spy? How’d you even know we’d be here?”

            “I didn’t know, I swear.” He puts up his hands defensively. “I moved back to Keystone a few years ago, before it got really bad. I heard rumours you two were heading up the Order of Justice and I can’t, in good conscious, let my own blood rampage the world. Felicity Smoak—she said she knew you?—showed me pictures of you. This is just coincidence.”

            Iris eyes him warily, but it’s Barry—of course it’s Barry. His heart is always too big—it’s Barry that speaks. “Do you know what he’s done to me and my friends, our families?”

            Eddie shakes his head, wide-eyed. “I don’t. Knowing him, it can’t be good.”

            “Let’s give him a chance,” Barry says. He’s a thousand miles away and Eddie’s looking at him in concern. There’s naked emotion in his blue eyes, no shadows of deceit or lies. It’s like he’s actually really, very, unbelievably worried about a person he literally just met.

            Iris wants to groan out loud in both annoyance and crashing fondness. Oh no, not another one. She smiles and shrugs helplessly. “At this point, I don’t see why not.” She holds out her hand. “Phone.” He scrambles for it. She takes it a programs her number, sending herself a text message. “I’ll send you Barry’s number later. Meet us at the Verdant in Starling City tomorrow night at ten. Do you think you can make it?”

            He nods. “Yes, of course.”

            She smiles at him. “Okay, see you there, Eddie.” She puts her hand on the crook of Barry’s elbow and tugs him out of the café, not feeling the urge to bask in their caffeine anymore. He follows distractedly, leaving Eddie still standing there staring at his phone.

            “I like him,” Barry says suddenly.

            “Of course you do.” She rolls her eyes fondly.

            “Oh be quiet. You like him too.” He pokes her in the side teasingly. “He’s good, isn’t he?”

            “For once,” she says. “I think you’ve managed to pick someone with no ulterior motives.”

            He frowns at her. “Okay, that was harsh.” She winces, yeah that had been a little low. “And I picked you, didn’t I? You have no ulterior motives.”

            “That you know of,” she says primly, taking a sip of her coffee. She chokes on her sip when he takes her coffee and sips it himself. “Hey!”

            “Nope, I get to have at least two sips. You broke the rules.”

            She grumbles, but allows him to take one more sip. “It’s only ‘cos I love you.”

            “I know. I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original/First: Parents live. Barry Meets Iris and Eddie in school.  
>  **Second: Parents both die. Barry meets Iris in school. They meet Eddie in the Keystone City Jitters.**  
>  Third: Only Barry's mom dies. He meets both of them in school  
> Fourth: Both parents die. He meets no one.  
> Fifth: Both parents live, he never meets Iris or Eddie  
>  **Sixth [00]: Parents both die. Barry meets Iris in school. They meet Eddie in Keystone City. Eddie dies two years later**  
>  Seventh: This main story.


	6. Chapter 6

**_xii._ **

_“The nation is still in mourning as the relief efforts continue to break through the smoke and fires surrounding the now destroyed Coast City. No one quite knows who is responsible yet, but the general consensus is that the destruction of The City Without Fear has some connection to the multiple terrorist attacks through out the nation these past two years. ARGUS has taken over the investigation and refuses to comment on the matter. In the mean time Carol Ferris has given a statement…”_

           

            **xiii.**

“What happened?”

            Barry shrinks away from the demand so Iris steps forward, standing in front of her boyfriend to give him a little protection from the small mob that has formed. Instead of answering she asks, “What do you mean?”

            Roy Harper scoffs. “Don’t think we don’t know you’re the cause of the Defense hall being shut down. The whole school shook with the explosions. What did you do?”

            “We’re not the cause of that,” Eddie snaps. “Harrison Wells was.” He has his arm around Barry shoulders.

            Roy scoffs again, but Thea smacks him on the chest. “Ignore him,” she says. “Just… is there anything we can do? What happened?”

            Iris glances back at her boyfriends. If they told everyone—everyone being _everyone._ Laurel, Sara, Nyssa, Oliver, Thea, Roy, Ray, Felicity, Cisco, Tommy, Caitlin, Hartley, Ronnie, and countless others—about what was going on, maybe they can nip this dark lord business in the bud, way before Harrison Wells—Eobard Thawne?—gets even more powerful. He has the followers, but it doesn’t seem like he has the powers yet. Not fully.

            Barry shakes his head. “Later,” he says almost desperately. “Please. Just give me a day. Just a day. Then I’ll tell you.” His voice his shaking and his face is pale, eyes rimmed red. “Please—Just—.” He chokes on his words, his knees buckling. Eddie catches him carefully. The lights flicker.

            Iris glares at their friends and not-quite-friends. Felicity looks close to tears and Caitlin looks like she’s trying very hard not to rush to Barry’s side. Nyssa purses her lips together, raising an eyebrow. She and Sara are the only ones who know exactly what’s going on, minus what happened this morning.

            “Meet us at the Room of Requirement tomorrow night after dinner,” she announces. “If you’re going to be an ass about it, don’t bother showing up.” She directs her glares toward Roy and Oliver. The eldest Queen sibling may be strangely distant this year, a far cry from his party-animal, class ditching, and slight tormentor years, but she still doesn’t trust him. “Till then, give us some space, yeah?—And, Caitlin, we’re fine. Professor Lance and Allen looked us over before they let us go.”

            They all scatter, murmuring to each other and sending them looks that do not bode well. Iris really, really, hopes she can trust all of them. Not only are they friends, but having more than three people going against a man with so many followers already—if these people Barry’s been fighting as the Man in Red are, in fact, Wells’ followers.

            Iris turns around. “You okay?”

            Barry takes a deep breath and nods shallowly. “Yeah, I think so.” He drags a hand down his face, grimacing. “I’m really tired of this.”

            “Hey, come on.” Eddie urges him down the hallway toward the Room. “Let’s just take a few hours—maybe more if you want to—and relax. I’m sure we can get the Room to conjure up some audios of Lord of the Rings.” Tolkien may not be Barry’s favourite, but long exposure to it through Iris has made both him and Eddie fans by proxy.

            Iris chuckles, going to Barry’s other side. “I think that sounds perfect.”

            “Of course you do,” he says, grinning slightly. His lips quirk into a frown. “Are you guys really okay?”

            She wraps their arms together. “We’re _fine_. You, on the other hand, I’m still worried about.”

            He doesn’t answer positively or negatively to her non-question. The Room pops open a door when they’re barely six feet away from the wall, pillows and books in the natural whorls of the wood. Inside there’s a large bed, larger than you could normally find in a store, piled high with pillows of every size and blankets and comforters. A tall bookcase with properly bound books and audiobooks sits on one side with a bedside table on the other.

            “See, this is perfect,” Eddie says.

            Barry doesn’t say a word, just sheds his uniform jacket and undoes his Hufflepuff tie. He slips off his shoes and socks, slides off his belt, and yanks his dress shirt off, leaving him in a white tee-shirt and his uniform slacks. The whole thing is slow, fumbling, like he’s half-asleep or a thousand miles away. He looks smaller now, without the bulk of their uniform, and sadder, like the day is catching up to him.

            Iris sheds down to the exact same outfit, except she has a tank top instead. She curls her toes against the floor, waiting for Eddie to pop in _The Fellowship of the Ring_ and match them in state of undressed.

            “Barry—,” she tries.

            “Can we just forget about it for a little bit,” he begs, crawling into bed. “My head, it’s spinning, and I just…I don’t really want to think about either of you, _dead.”_ His breathing hitches. “Or my parents.” He covers his face. “Oh God, my dad, he’s not—He didn’t do it,” he mumbles. “My dad didn’t have a psychotic break. He was Imperio-ed. He’s innocent.” A tear slips down his cheek.

            She follows him, wrapping her arms around him and leading him to lie down. “Shh. Don’t think about it right now,” she says. “We’ll take care of everything, give yourself a while to calm down, right?”

            The sounds of Rob Inglis’ voice washes over them. He’s not the best narrator for the books, but he’s a nice voice to fall asleep to. Eddie crawls into bed on Barry’s other side, making the bed bounce when he plops down. Barry presses his face against a pillow, groaning.

            “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispers.

            Eddie throws an arm over Barry’s stomach, curling his fingers against his side. “You can,” he assures him. “And the best part is, you don’t have to do it alone.”

            Barry shifts to kiss him lightly, pressing their foreheads together. “This is true,” he murmurs.

            Iris laughs softly and leans her head against Barry’s back, wrapping her arms tighter around his chest. Eddie shuffles closer and Barry curls up a bit more. These are her favourite moments, when they’re so close she can’t tell where they start and where they end, they just _are._

**[06.2020]**

Eddie has to wipe his hands on this pants, his nervous making them sweat. The music is loud enough to make his body thump with the beat even with in out in the parking lot and not even in the queue. He’s not exactly dressed for a club, or, at least, he’s not dressed for Starling City’s Verdant. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and his vest, and a nice pair of jeans. Everyone else are wearing short, attractive slinky dresses and well-colored Henley’s.

            He queues up and makes it up to the bouncer in record time. He presents his ID, almost expecting to be turned away, but the attractive black man just grins at him and gestures him in. Eddie smiles back and heads in, not missing the fact that the bouncer is immediately replaced by some non-descript white guy who looks incredibly bored.

            The music is even louder actually inside. Eddie tugs on his earlobe and mutters a volume spell. The sound dies down a bit, but his ribs throb to the beat. He wanders up to the bar and orders a beer. The bartender winks at him conspiratorially, handing him the drink and waving off the bills he tries to hand her.

            Okay, now he’s getting confused. He knows Barry and Iris asked him yesterday to come here, but this seems a little extreme.

            “Hey, Eddie!”

            He turns to see Barry practically sashaying toward him with a smile on his face and a beer in hand. Eddie has to remind himself to breath. When Felicity had showed him the pictures of the two heads of the Order of Justice he had been caught of guard by how attractive they were. Then he met them in real life and he decided the pictures did them no justice at all. They were stunning in real life and their personalities, Barry’s trusting, friendly one and Iris’ forceful, protective, fond one, made them ten times more breathtaking.

            Barry leans in close; he must be hearing the music at the proper volume. His breath is hot against his ear and he smells vaguely of alcohol. “I’m glad you made it.”

            Eddie smiles at him. “Thanks for inviting me. I know it was kind of suspicious, but thanks for the chance.”

            “If people don’t get even first chances then life isn’t all that good, is it?” His expression is way too serious for an atmosphere like this. He claps his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, warm and comforting. Eddie isn’t too sure what he’s feeling when he thinks of Barry and Iris, let alone when he’s faced with them physically. “Come on. Talking up here is useless.” His hand trails down Eddie’s arm, grabbing his hand, tugging him in the direction of the back.

            Eddie follows him with no qualms, completely enraptured by the man in front of him. Barry leads him to a door hidden by non-magical eyes. If he squints and turns his head the right way he can see the shimmer of a spell over it. Barry pauses in front of the door and snaps his fingers, a spark of red emitting from his fingertips. The spell falls away for the briefest moments, allowing Barry to open the door, probably without some sort of backlash.

            He hesitates even as Barry takes the first few steps down the stairs. He knows he asked for this—he wants to stop his uncle from achieving his world domination plans, but he’s not sure he’s ready for this. This people rumored to be part of the Order of Justice. Iris West and Barry Allen may have started it, but they’re virtual unknowns. If Felicity Smoak is part of it then Oliver Queen is part of it. There might be Hartley Rathaway as well, disgraced by his family, but no less influential.

            Eddie’s not sure he can do this.

            “You okay?”

            He looks down at Barry—Barry who hasn’t let go of his hand and whose expression is open and eager. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m okay. Lead the way.”

            The basement of the club is surprisingly soundproof and already full of people. Iris smiles brightly at him when their eyes meet. Eddie can’t help the small thrill that goes through his chest.

            “Eddie!” Felicity is as bright and bouncy as ever. “Welcome to the club.” She winces. “That sounded cheesy, didn’t it?”

            He grins back. “A little,” he admits. He only recognizes Oliver Queen, Hartley Rathaway, and Iris West. Everyone else is a complete mystery.

            Eddie takes a deep breath, his heart jumping when Barry squeezes his hand before letting do.

            Okay, he can do this.

            Maybe.

 

           **07.**

“So, how’d you get sorted into Slytherin? You’re so fluffy.”

Eddie glanced up from his book to see the pretty Gryffindor he’s been noticing way too much lately smiling down at him. The tips of his ears heat up and he hopes their redness isn’t too noticeable. “Um, what?”

She takes a seat without any prompting and leans forward, resting her chin on her hand and staring at him intently. There’s something he can’t recognize in that gaze. “Barry’s told me about you. You’re nice to all the Hufflepuffs. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve gone past petty House rivalries like the ol’ days, but you’re exceptionally so. Most of the Slytherins around here are cold, aloof, and don’t talk to outside their House unless there’s a specific reason. You, on the other hand, say hi to Barry every time you have class and you don’t expect anything else.”

It takes him a second to realise he’s gaping at her, eyes wide. “I, uh, I—.”

She leans even closer, her free hand coming out to offer a handshake. “I’m Iris West. Barry Allen is hiding behind the bookcase like a nervous squirrel. He thinks you’re cute. I think you’re cute. I’m pretty sure you think the two of us are cute. Let’s be friends.”

He shakes her hand, choking out “Eddie Thawne,” as Barry creeps out, his face as red as Eddie feels like his is. “And it’s a family thing. I’m a little afraid of disappointing my dad, so I managed to convince my way into Slytherin. Something about my traits aren’t seen very often in Slytherins and it’ll be a refreshing change of pace?”

Iris shrugs. “If it makes sense to them, it makes sense to me.” She grins. “Not really.”

Eddie snorts. Barry takes the only other empty seat, slouching down and stretching his legs out so his foot knocks against Eddie’s. He expects the Hufflepuff to jerk away and stammer an apology, kind of like the ones he’s seen the other boy do in their classes together, but he just grins at Eddie kind of lazily.

He’s sort of confused, but it’s a nice kind of confused. It’s the kind of confused that he doesn’t mind feeling, especially if it goes from confusion to something _more._

And he’s interested in that, very much.

            “She’s kind of forward,” Barry offers in way of apology, grinning sheepishly. He yelps when iris reaches out to pinch him lightly. “Ow, uncalled for.”

            “Oh, very called for.” She turns back to Eddie. “Ignore him.”

            Eddie kinda of focuses on Barry instead of what she jokingly asked. His head is spinning with the though that here are two amazingly pretty people, nice too, talking to him out of their own freewill. The Thawne family hasn’t been very well liked since his father graduated and the only person who’s willingly talked to him these two years have been his fellow Slytherins. Which, you know, doesn’t do well when he’s completely unsure how to deal with people in general.

            “Did you start on the Potions essay yet?” Barry asks awkwardly.

            He grins, appreciating the change of pace. Everything’s a little too intense for a first meeting. “I haven’t, you?”

            Their conversation goes from Potions to the latest accident in Defense class to Headmaster Singh’s announcement about Quidditch this morning to their parents’ jobs.

            And that’s how they end up missing their next class, receiving detentions for the same night.


	7. Chapter 7

** xiv. **

 

_ Animal Attacks Increase in Tri-City Area _

 

_ By Mason Bridge _

 

_ _ No one is quite sure what the causes of these increases in magical creature attacks mean, or even if they coincide with the numerous terrorist attacks that have picked up these last nine months. The general consensus is, yes, the terrorist attacks and the magical creature attacks are related through the rumors of the recent uprising in a Dark Lord, the first to be seen in more than 500 hundred years.

 

These rumors stem from the few wizards ARGUS has apprehended within the last three weeks. ARGUS has refused to answer any questions from the public, keeping the names of those wizards off the records.

 

The list of magical creatures attacks include a hellhound mauling a nine-year-old pureblood on March 3rd then subsequently attacking a playground, a dementor—thought to only be found at the prison Azkaban—stealing the soul of a small community center in Keystone City, and a swarm of pixies attacked a college party in Central City on the waterfront. These are three instances out of 89 cases of attacks, 15% more than eve that last 5 years. […]

 

_ _

 

** xv. **

 

Cisco finds him easily enough. (That is a lie). Barry’s tucked into a little corner of the library, pretending to read a book. It’s rare to see Barry Allen without Eddie and Iris glued to his sides, but here he is, hunched over and pale.

 

He decides to ignore all tact and outright asks “What’s his real name?” when he’s close enough. It wasn’t something they had mentioned a few days ago at the small meeting.

 

Barry jumps and Cisco instantly regrets scaring him. The Hufflepuff glances up at him, eyes rimmed pink. “What?”

 

“Harrison Wells,” he clarifies, taking the seat across from him. “What’s his real name?”

 

He presses his lips together, bleaching them white, and turns a page absently before answering. “Eobard Thawne,” he says quietly. “He didn’t tell me, but Eddie only has two uncles, and one of them hasn’t been in contact with the family for some time now. That’s Eobard.”

 

Cisco hums. “He doesn’t look like a Thawne. The eyes, yeah, but nothing else.”

 

“Glamour,” he answers instantly. “It shimmers around him all the time. I don’t know how the wards haven’t yanked it off him.”

 

“You can see it?” he can’t help but ask. When the explosion happened in the Defense hall no one knew what was happening, even more so when Iris, Eddie, and Barry seemed to be in the center of it with Harrison Wells—er, Eobard Thawne. And their explanation? Wasn’t enough. 

 

There’d been something going on with the three of them since Barry’s nine week coma, something not good. Before all of this Barry had been a pretty friendly guy, nervous and shy most of the time, but he was, is a genius and Cisco _loves_ geniuses. Just look at the people he hangs out with! And, not to mention, their group is brilliant together, hacking ARGUS and impressing them enough they have standing job offers after school? He _misses_ that Barry.

 

Barry nods, picking at his nails. “I can. I have been able to see it since my coma.” He grimaces. “I’m sorry that I’ve been so distant from you guys. There’s…There’s been a lot going on lately.”

 

He leans forward. “Tell me about it.” When Barry hesitates, Cisco takes a deep breath. “We want to help you Barry. What the three of you told us? It wasn’t everything. If this is as bad as I think it is, you need all the help you can get. You have more people on your side than you probably think.”

 

“I—.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “ARGUS is thinking of pulling me out of school,” he says slowly. “I know I only have a year and a half left, but…I don’t know if I can do this.”

 

“Do what?”

 

Barry tells him everything from the beginning, with every little detail. The tragic story of his mom and his dad—which everyone already knew, news spreads fast in the tri-city area—and the suspicious about Harrison Wells as a teacher, the accidents that have constantly happened in his class but with enough misdirect it never got to the Headmaster. Barry tells him about his magic and panic attacks, about Nyssa’s plans to help Iris and Eddie. Cisco knew some of this, from before, but…Jesus Christ.

 

He pauses for a very, very long moment, to the point where Cisco thinks that’s it. It may not have what happened just a few days ago, but it explains so much, better too.

 

Barry takes a shaky breath. “Eobard Thawne, the one that’s been teaching us all this time, he’s from the future.”

 

Cisco chokes and coughs. “Wh-what?”

 

That just leads to an entirely new explanation. Mix the wham information with the way Barry’s hands slowly go from small shakes to extreme trembles that honestly worries Cisco a lot, this is all just a bad situation. His face pales even more and he bites back a sob an audible sob, covering his mouth.

 

If Cisco regretted scaring him early, now he regrets more even bothering to ask him about this. Especially when Iris and Eddie aren’t here. For a Gryffindor, Iris is incredibly terrifying. And Eddie sometimes gets that look in his eye that makes everyone nervous.

 

“Barry—.” The Hufflepuff shakes his head, closing his book and resting his forehead on the cover. Cisco switches tracks. “Where are Iris and Eddie?”

 

“Eddie’s with his parents and Virgil, from ARGUS,” he mumbles, “trying to figure out what happened to this version of Eobard. Iris is with her dad at the ministry, forcing herself into their investigation.”

 

“I would think they’d be here, with you,” Cisco says with a frown. “It’s been three days. You still don’t look so good.”

 

Barry gives him a sardonic smile. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

 

Cisco waves a hand dismissively. “Not what I mean, and you know it.” He gets up from his chair. “Come on,” he says. “Everyone’s waiting in the Room of Requirement.”

 

He looks nervous, like he’s going to be sick. “Waiting for what?”

 

“You,” he says with a grin. At Barry’s wide-eyed look he laughs lightly. “Barry, you obviously aren’t aware of how many people care about you. Yeah, you’ve been a little distant and different lately, but that doesn’t erase six years with most of us, and ten years with some of us. You’re a great guy, man. I miss you.”

 

“Cisco,” he says quietly.

 

“Remember when we came up with magical paintball?” Barry laughs, expression startled like he hadn’t been expecting to laugh. “You, me, and Felicity figured out how to make those semi-permanent, glowing tags? I think Oliver was _this_ close to killing us, but Felicity buffered him.”

 

“Yeah, then Iris nearly had a heart attack when she saw the side of the school where we practiced our shots. What’s this story about?”

 

Cisco shakes his head. “We went from three people coming up with an idea to having a school-wide paintball tournament, house-against-house-against-house-against-house. Even now it’s still hard to believe a single crazy idea led to that.”

 

“Laurel shot me in the crotch,” Barry says with a wince.

 

“Hey, they were padded rounds!” There’s a beat of awkward silence before Cisco touches his shoulder carefully. “Come with me,” he says. “Let’s go talk to everyone.”

 

“We’ve already talked to them,” he protests lightly even as he stuffs his book in his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “What more is there?”

 

Cisco shakes his head. “For one thing, you didn’t actually _say_ anything. Everything you just told me? That’s _way_ more than what you said three days ago. And two, just because you talked a little bit about what happened doesn’t mean you gave us a game plan for what to do.”

 

The sounds of Barry following him suddenly stop, forcing Cisco to turn around. Barry’s fingers are white around the strap of his bag, eyes wide.

 

“Game plan?” he whispers, sounding, if Cisco had to guess, hopeful, confused, overwhelmed. “You want a game plan…from me?”

 

“Of course!” Cisco turns fully around, giving him a confused look. “You’re the center of all this? You seem to be the most powerful. Why wouldn’t you be the one to give the game plan? Those other timelines you told me about?” Some how accepting the fact there are different time lines doesn’t seem so hard, it seems almost natural. “You and Iris, you were the leaders in those wars, right?”

 

He shakes his head first, then nods, shrugging. “I think so? I only know as much as what Eobard told me. But it sounds like it. I don’t know, though, I don’t feel very leader-ish. What about Nyssa? Or,” he winces, “As bad as he use to be, Oliver’s changed. I don’t know what happened. Eobard said his whole party-animal thing didn’t happen until after he graduated, but he’s been great for the Slytherin Quidditch team this year.”

 

“This timeline isn’t the same as that one,” Cisco points out, trying to weave logic into this mess of time travel and magic. “Something could’ve happened over the summer. Felicity said he visited ARGUS about something having to do with his dad. So, yeah, timelines, not the same.”

 

Barry’s expression darkens. “Yeah, definitely not the same. It better not be the same,” he mutters. He hefts the bag higher on his shoulder and starts walking, his long legs taking him in front of Cisco. “What about Nyssa and Sara? They could tag team it.”

 

“Before the thought even crossed our minds Nyssa said it had to be you. Her dad apparently backs that choice up to.” He eyes the back of Barry’s head, feeling a type of wariness lodge in his chest.

 

ARGUS, League of Assassins, Dark Lord Eobard Thawne, and now this, whatever their group is going to be called. 

 

What is it about Barry Allen that has the whole world converging on him?

 

 

** xvi. **

 

Iris comes home from a weekend of bugging her dad and his boss to the school surprisingly quiet. She has an envelope clutched in her hand, the School Board backing ARGUS’ request to pull Barry Allen out of school for an unspecified time frame. They didn’t tell her, of course, that the letter said that, and she really shouldn’t have it. But her dad pulled strings for her to give it to her boyfriend and she can easily guess what the subject is.

 

She dumps her stuff in the Gryffindor dorms and tucks her wand in her pocket before she goes on her search for her boyfriends. Eddie got here two hours earlier, but he didn’t tell her where they were. Her only guess is the Room of Requirement. (Definitely not the Defense Rooms, the classes temporarily moved to the basements classrooms) 

 

The door this time is open books and wands sprouting magic. If she shifts the right way and squints, Iris swears the magic shimmers in colour. She pushes open the door just in time to see Oliver Queen grab Roy Harper in a headlock and Linda Park put Hartley Rathaway on his ass with a well-placed spell. Cisco laughs so hard he falls to his knees, clutching at Caitlin.

 

She spots Eddie and Barry off to the side with Nyssa and Sara, talking quietly. When she gets closer she holds out the letter to Barry. “You’re getting pulled out of school in a week,” she tells him softly.

 

Barry takes it, folding it up to stick it in his back pocket. “Figured,” he mumbles. “I’m surprised it took the School Board this long. They’ve been wanting me out of the school since Ray and I hacked the wards to only allow people in whose favourite color was purple.”

 

Iris snorts at the memory. Only fifteen people in their year were able to enter the school. Eddie had been one of them, only because of his love for his mom’s blueberry pancakes—which turn out purple when made.

 

Eddie kisses her hello, wrapping and arm around her waist. “How’d it go?”

 

“Useless, they don’t know anymore than we do.” She shakes her head. “Actually, I think we know more than them. What about you?”

 

“The Eobard that came to my birthday party when I was six is dead,” he answers smoothly, not even a hitch. It’d be disturbing if it weren’t for the fact that the last time he saw his uncle was, of course, when he was six and that the uncle they’re aware of now is basically a sociopath. “I reached out to some cousins over in Germany, they said Eobard came to visit them then disappeared. Judging by the laws in that country, ‘Harrison Wells’ probably killed him and came back here. Less of a chance to create a paradox, I guess.”

 

“Imagine running into yourself,” Sara mutters. “That’d be a nightmare.” Laurel calls her sister’s name and the blonde Slytherin heads over, shedding her jacket. The two of them face off, wands at the ready.

 

“What’s this about?” Iris asks. Everyone’s still fighting, sparring actually. Before Barry can answer, Caitlin’s pulling him away, talking excitedly about something. His whole expression lights up and he grins. “What happened?”

 

It’s so nice to see Barry actively interacting with people, but she was only gone for three days for the long weekend. What happened to have it change so fast?

 

“Well, we might have had a meeting after you told us what happened,” Nyssa says. “They were well aware that you hadn’t told them everything and I refused to be the one to tell them.” She shrugs. “They decided to talk to Barry and he decided to break the barrier.”

 

“They know _everything_?” Iris asks, sort of horrified. 

 

Eddie nods. “That was my reaction too, but Barry seems pretty okay with it, actually.” He eyes their boyfriend. “More than okay. I haven’t seen him like this since before the coma.”

 

“We’re the Order of Justice,” Nyssa says, grimacing slightly. “I think it’s ridiculous, but Barry seemed determined to name the group that. Something about shoving it in Eobard’s face when we see him again?”

 

“So, Barry’s the leader?”

 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s the three of you. Cisco just has bad timing when he wants to know things and convinced most of us that we’d benefit from starting now, meaning Friday, instead of later. Oliver,” she jerks her chin towards the Slytherin, “he’s more than determined to help out. Something happened and he’s pissed off.”

 

“I was wondering about that,” Iris says out loud.

 

“Eddie! Iris!” Barry waves at them, urging them over. “Come look what the dream team came up with.” He laughs when Felicity smacks his arm lightly. “I’m sorry, that’s just as bad as the Order of Justice. I could call us the League of Justice? Or, oh! The Justice League.” 

 

Eddie laughs. “The Justice League is almost as bad as the Order of Justice, but it has a nice ring to it.” He shifts closer. “What’s up?”

 

Felicity holds out a small electronic slightly smaller than an ear bud and black. “Ray and Cisco came up with it and Hartley and Barry helped me make them work with magic, Caitlin made it so they can never go higher than healthy. It’s for communication when we’re out in the field.”

 

“Out in the field?” Iris can’t help but ask. 

 

Barry gives her a small smile. “They keep calling me ‘in-charge’ but I don’t feel like it.” He laughs softly. “They want the Man in Red to have some back up. There’s been more attacks happening at the same time than I can handle and they’re getting some sort of power boost from Eobard. The Aurors won’t be able to handle it. We can coordinate with these.”

 

Iris tugs on his arm. “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”

 

Barry hands his communicator back to Felicity and allows Iris to pull him into a side room, Eddie close behind. The Slytherin pulls the door close with a small click. She lets go of him and turns around. Her eyes widen when his face suddenly turns pale.

 

“What’s going on?” she asks. 

 

He rubs his hand over his mouth, his fingers trembling slightly. “It’s like I told you,” he says. “I promise. I swear that nothing beyond them angry at Eobard and wanting to help is going on.” He runs the hand through his hair. “I keep asking them ‘why?’ and they keep telling me it’s because they’re my friends and they care about me.” He shrugs. “They won’t let me believe anything else.”

 

Iris cups his elbows. “Are you okay?”

 

“You’re looking pale,” Eddie adds, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Is it too much? We can tell them they’re putting too much on you.”

 

Barry shakes his head. “It’s not that.” He scrubs his face, dislodging Iris from his elbows so she places her hands on his hips, thumbing his surprisingly sharp hipbones. Too sharp.

 

“Have you been eating?” Eddie asks, noticing the same thing she just did.

 

“I try,” he admits. “My magic’s been acting wonky for the past couple of days, since Eobard revealed himself. I don’t know what’s going on.”

 

Eddie’s expression goes from concerned to slightly alarmed. “Wonky means what now?”

 

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just a little harder control. It feels like it’s boiling under my skin, itching to get out, be used. It’s nothing.”

 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Iris says. 

 

“It’ll be fine,” he says, obviously trying to sound assuring, but ultimately fails. His voice wobbles too much and his eyes are a little too bright. “It’ll be fine.”

 

****

 

** xvii. **

 

“No, no, nononono. Eddie—Eddie, stay with me.” Barry cups his face, his hands trembling, thumbing over his pale cheek.

 

Blood bubbles from his lips, his smile grim and his lips white. “’s ‘kay.” It’s so pathetically non-reassuring to the point that Barry involuntarily grins, bitter and angry and oh-so sad.

 

There’s a soft _pop_! and Shawna’s there, eyes wide and face pale. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know he was there. I thought he was _you_.”

 

Barry whirls around and almost advances—magic sparking—on her until Eddie gurgles. He comes back to his  boyfriend, his stomach rolling and his chest tight. “That doesn’t make it any better,” he growls, his eyes burning. “You wanna show how sorry you are? Go get Caitlin Snow. Don’t let him die.” He tightens his grip on his boyfriend, but keep his eyes on the woman. Her expression is open, fear and remorse. “Prove you’ve realised Eobard Thawne is not the way to go. You’re better than this Shawna. What you owe him is _nothing._ ”

 

The witch nods once then disappears with a soft _pop!_ He’s fought her once before and she hadn’t been that bad. He doesn’t even remember why he fought her or the reason she gave to stealing the jewelry she was taking, he just remembers something about owing Eobard. 

 

“B-Bar’.”

 

He turns his attention back to his boyfriend. “Hold on,” he pleads desperately. “Please, just hold on, for me. You promised.” He sobs. “You promised you wouldn’t die.”

 

Eddie reaches up with a shaking hand, brushing the tips of his fingers under Barry’s eyes. “You—,” he chokes. “E-eyes.”

 

Barry covers one of his eyes, frowning. “Shush,” he soothes. He brings his hand down, gripping Eddie’s hand tight. “It’s going to be okay. Shawna’s going to prove she’s a good person.” A bad person wouldn’t look so horrified for hurting someone they didn’t mean to. “Caitlin’s going to fix you up and you’re going to _live_.” Or so help him, Eobard is going to fucking pay.

 

Either way, he’s going to pay.

 

“N-No—.”

 

“Eddie, _please_.” He tangles their fingers together. “Please, please, stop talking. You need to save your strength. I don’t—I don’t know how long Shawna’s going to be.” He leans down to touch their foreheads together, feeling how clammy Eddie is. “Please. Please. _Please_ don’t die. You promised. This wasn’t suppose to be like the other time lines. You’re not suppose to die in this one.”

 

“S-Sorry.”

 

Barry sobs, his chest rattling. “Don’t be sorry, this isn’t your fault. I should’ve known Eobard was going to go through the people I love to get to me.” He brushes a fleeting kiss against Eddie’s lips. “I love you, please don’t die.”

 

“Oh, this is _so_ sad.” Barry whirls around, glaring at Eobard as he advances. “You know, when Eddie died in the previous timeline neither of you got the chance to comfort him. He was dead as soon as he hit the ground. Iris kept _screaming_ and you started crying. It was actually pretty hilarious.”

 

He lunges to his feet, growling. “Eobard—.”

 

“Nuh-uh,” he says, wagging his finger with a smarmy smile on his face. “You want to kill me, I know. But what about Eddie? He’s _dying_ and you’re just going abandon him to go after me? And if you succeed in killing me, how with your remaining loved one react? She’ll be _horrified._ After all that time trying to control your magic and you’re just going to let it go.” He frowns almost thoughtfully. “My Barry, in the previous one ad the first one, he didn’t have this kind of terrible control.”

 

“I’m going to kill you.” 

 

Eobard laughs. “Do you know how many times you’ve said that? And it never works.”

 

A hand pats at his ankle and Barry drops back to his knees. Right now Eddie matters, he’s _not_ going to abandon him. He’s not going to abandon him when he and Iris have stuck by him through all of this. 

 

_ Where the hell is Shawna?  _ Did he misread her?

 

“So, I’m just going to sit back and watch this entertaining show. I find television to be rather boring.” He glances back to see Eobard leaning against a wall, his arms crossed. “My followers are dealing with your Order. Hopefully Iris won’t be killed by someone low level.”

 

Barry sneers at him. “She _won’t_ and we’re the Justice League in this timeline.” There’s a flicker of surprise across Eobard’s face that makes a flash of triumph burst in his chest. “Something different? I’m assuming that’s a constant that hasn’t altered? What does it mean that it has now?”

 

“That you’re still going to lose,” Eobard snarls, his composure momentarily shaken.

 

Eddie gurgles suddenly, gasping sharply, his back arching, his hand slapping against Barry. Barry cries out Eddie’s name, catching his hand and gripping it tight. “No! Nononono. Eddie, no, please!”

 

Eobard laughs loudly, drowning out Barry’s pleads. Eddie meets Barry’s eyes, the shocking blue glazed over in pain and fear. Barry grips both sides of his face, his fingers digging in a little too hard.

 

“You. Can’t. Die,” he orders, demands, begs. “ _Please_.”

 

The light dies in his eyes and there’s a soft _pop!_

 

_ “Eddie!” _

 

 

** xviii. **

 

“Oliver!” Laurel shouts. “Blast it, damnit!”

 

Oliver concentrates, feels the energy forming, his body warm, then the creature suddenly (or not so suddenly) explodes, showing the street in blood and guts. ARGUS’ Kendra is somewhere on top of a building, throwing heavy curses down on the followers of the _cliché_ Dark Lord. Laurel is making good of her sound specialty, her charm around her neck letting her burst eardrums and rupture internal organs. 

 

There’s a _boom!_ a block away and fire burns into the sky, he winces and hopes Ronnie and Caitlin are okay. Iris is back to back with Felicity; both of them shooting spells like their lives depend on it. (Which it does). Nyssa and Sara are tag-teaming thirty different guys, Nyssa going for throats and Sara going for— _ouch_ —other certain soft spots. Roy and Thea. Cisco and Hartley. Ray and Linda.

 

“How the hell did he find so many followers?” Diggle shouts, the ARGUS man sounds irritated and frustrated.

 

Oliver ignores him, realising that while he did a run down of everyone on in their League, there’s two people he missed. “Where’s Barry?” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Iris falter, almost catching a spell in the shoulder. “Has anyone seen Eddie?”

 

There’s a general chorus of ‘no’ and ‘oh shit.’ That last one sounded like it came from Virgil, another ARGUS agent. 

 

Iris sounds panicked, terrified in his ear when she says, “Has anyone seen Eobard?”

 

The answer is dead, somber silence when they all realise what has happened. Barry went after Thawne, _alone._ And Eddie probably followed

 

“Damnit!” Iris shouts, throwing a curse at Mark Mardon that has him dropping to his knees screaming. “I _told_ him—I’m going to _kill_ him when I find him.” She whirls around, catching another follower—Mark’s brother, Clyde—off-guard and tossing him in the air against the side of a building. “We were suppose to do it _together._ ”

 

“Iris, hold it together,” Lyla warns.

 

But the other woman is obviously not listening, there’s a dark purple aura building around her. She puts her hand out and blasts Lenard Snart like he’s just a leaf in the wind. Oliver regrets ever letting Sara assure him teaching her the ways of the League of Assassins was a good idea.

 

There’s a flash of bright white light and two people come crashing down into the chaos that is an all out war. Everyone freezes, whether they’re ARGUS, or the JL, or one of the followers, they all freeze as the light fades away and the sun spots in their eyes disappear.

 

Oliver blinks rapidly, his eyes widening when he sees Barry and Eobard Thawne facing off in the middle of the street. They both look beaten beyond measure; it’s amazing either of them are standing. Rubble and rocks shake, rattle, and float in the air, controlled by Barry’s magic subconsciously.He’s glaring at the man who’s ruined his life for too long, his eyes sparking a white light to rival Eobard’s red.

 

“You’re too late,” Eobard taunts mercilessly. “You’re always too fucking late. This is just a repeat from before. I’ve taken everything from you already in this timeline and I took everything from you in the other ones, and yet you keep coming back for more. When will you learn that you can never win?”

 

Barry shouts a something guttural, wordless. He lunges at Eobard, catching him around the waist. “I’m going to kill you! You’re done ruining _everything_.”

 

“Barry!” Iris shouts.

 

The other man can’t hear her, or he ignores her—he pulls a fist back and punches Eobard in the face once, twice, three times until he’s thrown off by a wave of magic. He goes skittering across the ground, bouncing like a rock across a lake, until he slams into a parked car. 

 

Barry shoves himself to his feet, spitting out a glob of blood. “You ruined my mom,” he says, voice dangerously low. “You took her mind and you took her magic. You sent my dad to a prison that’s slowly killing him, you made me hate him.” The wind picks up, whipping everyone’s hair. “You fucking killed my boyfriend.”

 

Iris gasps. “ _What?”_

 

The sparks grow brighter in his eyes; his hands curl into fists at his side and shake in rage. “I’m going to _kill_ you.”

 

Eobard laughs. “Again with this? You. Can. Try.”

 

Barry throws his hands in the sky, lighting flashing and thunder rolling. “ _Fuck you_ ,” he snarls. He brings down his hands just as Eobard races forward, his hand catching Barry’s throat in a crushing hold.

 

There’s a flash of light and a soft _pop!_ and the spot where the two wizards were is empty except a smoking scorch mark. 

 

“ _Barry!”_

 


	8. Chapter 8

**06.2**

They’re in Central City two weeks after ARGUS finally pulls Barry out of class. It’s all of them—the entirely of the Justice League (whose name still makes Felicity and Roy laugh)—in IHOP, planning their weekend so they don’t have to go back to school the whole time.

            It’s weird being in school without Barry, Felicity decides. It’s never occurred to her what a staple he is until he’s not there. The nine-week coma had been hell, it was weird without him, but it was agony knowing that it was because he was hurt. This, this is different. This is weird because Barry’s _here_ and _okay_ , laughing with his boyfriend and girlfriend, cheeks red with happiness and doubling over as Ray finishes his terrible joke.

            He’s here and okay, but he’s not at school because, in reality, he’s not okay. There’s just something off about him—more so than it’s been for awhile now. She can’t put her finger on it.

            “Come on, do it,” Thea urges.

            Barry shakes his head. “I can’t. They’re not mine. I can’t just destroy someone else’s stuff.”

            “Sure you can,” Roy says, smirking. “Just put it back together. Are you an all-powerful wizard or what?”

            He rolls his eyes, a grin twitching on his lips. “You are a bad influence.”

            “Slytherin,” Thea says, pointing to herself then to Roy, saying “Gryffindor. What do you expect?”

            Barry glances from Iris to Eddie, expression fond. “Fair point. Okay, okay.”

            Felicity waits for someone more sensible to stop them, Linda maybe or Hartley, but not even Iris or Eddie speaks up. They must have good confidence in Barry’s ability to control his magic. Hindsight is 20/20, when they finally spilled the story about everything that’s been happening she remembered the time in the Dining Hall when Barry had a panic attack after Caitlin touched him unwantedly.

            His magic hadn’t been under his control. But now…

            Barry raises a finger, pointing it a Hartley’s full cup of orange juice. It rattles and suddenly the liquid is rising from it, bubbling in the air in different globs of the drink. Everyone oh’s and ah’s over it. Felicity claps her hands in excitement, feeling awe rush through her. Such precise magic with no voice incantations or a wand.

            And, thank God, no exploding.

“You should do what that one lady does,” Linda says. She snaps her fingers, thinking. “Zantanna! That witch who pretends she’s just doing slight of hand. She’s in Vegas for the next week. We should take a trip soon, before anything gets too heavy.”

A general sound agreement scatters around the table. Buried by the rest of the sounds is a small gasp. Felicity pulls her gaze from Oliver to see Barry still floating the orange juice, eyes wide and face pale.

“Bar, what’s wrong?” Iris is grabbing at his arm not controlling a spell. “What is it?”

Eddie rests his hand on his other arm, pushing down like he’s trying to get Barry to stop. “ _Barry_.”

Barry glances at them and then drops his arm, but the orange juice stays suspended in the air. “I’m not doing that,” he says frantically. “I swear I’m not. I told it to go back in the cup, but it won’t.”

The table vibrates and all their drinks float slowly into the air.

“Barry, stop,” Caitlin says.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “It won’t listen to me. My magic won’t listen to me.”

“Did it ever?” Roy asks, tone a little too sarcastic for her liking, but when Felicity glances at him his eyes are wide in fear.

“ _Yes_.”

There’s a beat then every single glass is exploding, shattering into dust. Felicity screams and jerks away from the table.

“What the hell?” she shouts.

Barry slams his fists on the table. “ _Damn it_!” Anger shimmers around him like a heat wave, or maybe that’s just his magic—either way, it’s uncharacteristic and _frightening._ She’s seen Oliver get mad, but Barry, never Barry.

Iris grabs his wrists, jerking him around so they’re facing each other. Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder and ups his cheek with his other hand, turning Barry’s head to they’re eye to eye.

“Is this the wonky thing you were talking about?” he asks quietly. “Barry, what’s going on? You worked hard to gain control over your magic.”

“I know,” Barry whines, scared and panicked. “ _I know_. I don’t know what—I can’t—.” Sparks crackle over his skin, the lights flicker. “I keep trying to tell it to stop, control like I did before, but it won’t listen to me. It’s too much.”

“Get out of here!” Felicity hears Oliver shout, probably to the normals. “Laurel, call ARGUS. We need memory charms and containment.”

“’Containment?’” Iris hisses. “He’s not dangerous.”

Barry whimpers, curling over himself. Half the lights shatter, tables go flying, one of the windows to the street cracks in spider webs.

“ _That’s_ not dangerous?”

“He had control!” Eddie shouts over the roar of growing wind. “Something’s wrong, but he _did_ have control.”

**xix.**

He dodges a fist no problem, even though this Barry’s a little faster than other ones he’s not leeching magic off others so he can only go so fast. Eobard, on the other hand—he lashes out a foot and catches the annoyance in the stomach. Barry doubles over as the air whooshes out of his lungs. It’s refreshing to fight without magic, minus a few punches and tackles, none of the other versions of Barry got so physical. He grabs brown locks in his hand and _yanks_ back, baring the kid’s throat and making it hard for him to get that air back.

            “You’re at a disadvantage,” he says idly, trailing the fingers of his free hand down Barry’s face. “You only have so much magic inside you, everyone does. But what you have is an unlimited access, all at one and all the time. No one else can do that; they get a little bit each time they need to channel it. I can steal magic from people, I have unlimited magic. It’s useless and, frankly, very, very sad.”

            Barry glares at him, his eyes glowing white. Oh, what a sight to see. Eobard lets his magic bleed into his eyes as well, blood red. “You’re not going to kill me,” he rasps. “You can’t.”

            “You’re right, so this is all really futile, don’t you think?” Eobard curls his fingers into a fist, rapping his knuckle on Barry’s temple. “Just give into me now. Eddie’s dead, Iris isn’t so far behind. You may have kept me from going back in time, but if you give in this time then we don’t have to do this same song and dance all over again. It’s getting boring.”

            He misses the warning signs, that has to be it, because there’s no way he could’ve missed the magical charge that fills the punch to his crotch. He surges away from Barry, cupping himself and dropping to the ground. Holy shit.

            Eobard vaguely hears Barry laugh and glances up at the smug younger man, the white dimming slightly to the point he can see those brilliant green eyes.

            “Guess that got through to you, huh?”

            “Bastard,” he squeaks, his voice definitely a couple pitches higher than it should be. He heals himself the best he could. “I didn’t expect you to play dirty,” he comments.

            “Did any of the other version play dirty?”

            Eobard rolls his neck, cracking it. “No, actually. This is very refreshing. Like a dip in the pool. Maybe the next one will be as fun? Get your magical access, bond with Eddie and Iris, then I’ll kill both of them at the same time? It’s the death of a loved one that makes you so violent, I think.”

            The white intensifies, the glow escaping the corner of his eyes. “I don’t think so.” He widens his stance and launches himself at Eobard.

            Eobard dodges, but Barry swings a leg up to catch him in the hip. A maelstrom forms, whipping their clothes and hair around them. A tree comes up rooted, flying away.

            “Weather magic. Stealing from Clyde and Mark, are we? Do you have an original thought?”

            “Shut up!” he screams, sounding unhinged. Eobard feels a flicker of unfamiliar fear in his chest. “Stop making jokes. Stop sounding so smug and in control. You’re _done,_ Eobard. Either you go alone or we both go together, either way, you won’t be jumping through time anymore.”

            Eobard moves a foot to take a step back, then things better of throwing that kind of weakness. This Barry, this isn’t the Barry he knows. This one, he’s unhinged, crazy, ready to lose everything just for this chance. He’s willing to leave Iris behind to keep Eobard from ever interfering with any of their lives ever again.

            This isn’t Barry.

            And it’s kind of fantastic.

            The most fun he’s had in decades.

**xx.**

There’s a soft _pop_! that Iris just barely hears through the rolling thunder that follows the flash of light and the desperate screaming that takes her a moment to realise is coming from her herself. She presses a hand to her mouth, cutting off the loudest noise on the street.

            A moment of shocked silence passes before it erupts in chaos yet again. Digger Harkness throws himself at Lyla with a war cry, spurring the rest of the followers into action. Iris can’t move her feet, her legs feel like jelly, but she has enough of a clear mind to curse Bivolo into oblivion.

            Cisco’s there, grabbing her arm a little too tight. It’s enough to ground her, to get her to glance at him. Her vision is blurry with tears, the whole world swaying.

            Eddie’s dead. Oh God, _Eddie’s fucking dead._ He’s gone. They, he—she sobs, her lungs tight and hands shaking. She curls her hand to her chest, trying to hold herself together with no avail. Eddie’s dead—a piece of her ripped away—and Barry, _God_ , the man who just disappeared with Eobard looked nothing like the boy she fell in love with.

            “Iris,” Cisco’s tone is frantic and terrified. “Iris, hold yourself together. Please don’t breakdown now.”

            She can’t answer, won’t answer.

            _“Iris!”_

She jerks and meets the eyes of a witch she doesn’t know. The other woman’s eyes are brimming, her expression scared. Cisco squeezes her arm tighter even as she takes a wobbly step.

            “Iris West, right?” At her nod, the woman sighs in what could be called relief. “I’m Shawna, Caitlin told me to come find you. It’s Eddie—.”

            Her lungs seize again, and she doubles over slightly, trying to remember to breathe. Cisco keeps her from hitting the ground completely, her knees only buckling, but she doesn’t get any further than that. Shawna jumps to her other side, holding her up.

            “Jesus, if I had known…” she mutters. “Come on. You can come too, person I don’t know.”

            “Cisco.”

            “Ravenclaw? Cool. Hold on.”

            There’s a soft _pop!_ and Iris feels a soft breeze and a whoosh of air, completely different than any other apparating she’s ever done. Still, when her feet hit the ground her vision sways and she crashes shoulders with Cisco, catching herself on him and he clings to her.

            “Iris! Cisco!” Caitlin’s kneeling over Eddie’s prone body, her hands clasped over his chest, and her face pale and cheeks flushed pink in fading panic. “Iris, I need your help.”

            She shakes her friend off and rushes to Eddie’s side, falling to her knees. Her hands flutter over his body helplessly; half-afraid to have it confirmed that he’s truly, actually dead. She doesn’t want to know, she doesn’t want to believe. She ends up cupping his cheek with one hand and resting her other hand open palmed just over the Thawne family crest.

            And she bursts into tears when she feels the faint, fleeting heartbeat under her fingertips. She brushes a thumb over his clammy cheek. “What’s wrong with him?” she asks, unable to tear away from the sight of his blue, blue eyes half-lidded and empty. Tears trickle down the side of his face, dripping into his hair.

            Caitlin shakes her head. “I don’t know. His lungs were filling with blood and—.”

            “It was a modified Cruciatus,” Shawna jumps in. “Eobard had been trying to do it for years. It gives the full pain and a fraction of the actual damage so they can suffer longer. It increases as time goes on if someone doesn’t stop it. It’s a one-hit spell.”

            Iris gapes at her. “Did you do this?”

            “I did,” she answers with absolutely no hesitation. She meets Iris’ glare head on, her expression open with shame and remorse. “I didn’t know what Eobard had armed me with.” She rubs her temples. “I owed him. He saved me from a bad situation. I thought I was okay with this—but I met Barry when he stopped me a while ago and he _believed_ I wasn’t a bad person.” She waves her hand toward Eddie. “I didn’t mean to hit him, Eddie. Blondie.”

            “But you meat to hit Barry,” Cisco says. “After that, you still meant to go after Barry. My question is: If Eobard knows that he needs Barry to be able to take over the world, then why— _oh_. He _wants_ Barry, hurt and broken. This would’ve been the perfect time to grab him. You were almost compliant in a kidnapping,” he accuses.

            “I didn’t know what it was!” Shawna shouts. “I thought it was a tagging spell or something!”

            Iris turns her attention back to Eddie, the hand over the crest tingling. “What can I do?” She moves her hand from his face, carding it through his sweat soaked hair.

            “I got the blood out of his lungs,” Caitlin answers. “But I have to keep doing that or else he’ll drown. He was fading when I got here, just as Barry and Eobard disappeared. The biggest problem is ending the curse before it’s too late. Shawna doesn’t know the counter-curse, if there even is one.”

            Iris glances back up at Shawna, faintly wondering what her whole deal is. “Do you have an idea of what to do?” she asks Caitlin.

            She hesitates. “Maybe,” she says slowly. “His magic and your magic have been boosted, but Barry’s magic has been slowly bleeding into the rest of us as well. It talked to Nyssa last month about it, ARGUS pulled some strings. There’s a chance that is we give him one big rush of magic it’ll over power the curse and snap it.”

            “And what’s the other chance?”

            “Uh…you might not—.”

            “ _Caitlin.”_

“We could end up killing him,” she says in a rush. “This is all a guess. There’s never been magic like this before. I looked it up; the records talk about powerful wizards, but _nothing_ like this. It’s all unprecedented.”

            “We have to try.” When Caitlin hesitates again she shakes her head. “Caitlin, please,” she begs. “I can’t lose him.”

            She sighs. “Cisco, come here.” The Ravenclaw comes to Caitlin’s side, crouching down. She holds out her hand. “Iris keep your hand on his chest and take my hand.”

            “Can I do anything?” Shawna asks nervously.

            Iris looks up at her, assessing her meticulously. What would Barry do?—no, she can’t go by that right now. Barry…Barry trusted her to find Caitlin, but right now he’s not Barry. He’s overcome with grief, under the assumption that Eddie is _dead_ , and the need for revenge. So, what would Eddie do?

            “More magic can’t hurt,” Iris says. “Take Cisco’s hand.”

            Shawna sits cross-legged next to Cisco, clutching his hand tight enough both their knuckles turn white.

            “Okay…We can do this.” She mutters, “I hope.”

            “Very comforting,” Cisco quips.

            When Caitlin doesn’t immediately respond, Iris looks up to see her biting her lip and crying. None of them know what they’re doing. At all. And somehow that’s the third most terrifying thing right now.

            Right behind: Eddie’s in unimaginable agony right now and Barry may have already lost himself.

            “Take a deep breath.”

            Iris closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as directed. She reaches for that thread of magic Nyssa showed her when she got her mark and her name. She takes it, weaves it with little strands of escaping magic—the same ones everyone has—and then searches for the blue and gold spark that is Eddie. She wraps her thread around his, Cisco’s there in red and gold, Caitlin in white, Shawna in a light purple, hers in a darker purple and sliver.

            No one else can see this, it’s something Nyssa had even been surprised by when they learned about it.

            She opens her eyes, dismayed to see Eddie still laying there, his breathing shallow, his fingers twitching. “It didn’t work,” she says, a sob bubbling up. “ It didn’t work.”

            Eddie gasps, arching up, his neck snapping down like a seizure. His arms flail, he lurches to the side, gagging. Bile drips from his mouth. Iris clutches at him, grabbing his shoulders, his arms, his shirt, his face, unable to keep still as he continues to retch up all the nothing that’s in his stomach.

            “Eddie, Eddie, can you hear me?” He doesn’t answer, just gasps. “Eddie?”

            He scrabbles at her arm, his nails scraping her skin. She helps him sit up, his chest heaving. “I,” deep breath, “I h-hear y-you.”

            “Eddie, matching my breaths, okay?” Caitlin grabs his hand and presses it against her chest, taking exaggerated breathes. “In. Hold. Out. Hold. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Just keep doing that.”

            He sucks in a breath, eyes wide. “W-Where Barry? He w-was h-here.”

            “Shh,” Iris shushes him gently. “Just focus on breathing for a little bit longer.”

            Eddie shakes his head. “No. B-Barry—.”

            “ _Focus,_ ” she says firmly. Tears trail down her cheek, her emotions raw. “We can figure out Barry in a minute. You almost _died._ You _have_ to stop doing that.”

            He gives her a wobbly grin, small and apologetic. “My b-bad.”

            She leans over him, brushing a kiss to his forehead. “Yes, your bad. Just stop being so self-sacrificing. I get enough of that from Barry. My heart can’t handle two.”

            “There’s a chance Barry’s magic would’ve protected him,” Caitlin pipes up. Iris glares at her for the bad timing, but immediately regrets it when she bites her lip again.

            “Sorry.”

            “You have a very effective glare,” she jokes lamely, trying to lighten the mood in that uncharacteristic way she sometimes does.

            “Barry…”

            Iris sighs. “Yeah, let’s go.”

           


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like I said on tumblr. lackluster. I am _so_ sorry. Not for cliffhangers or tearfest, but because it tookme so long to write/post this yet it turns out like...well, this. Ugh
> 
> When the second season comes (today yay!) I hope to do better!

**xxi.**

Eddie doesn’t tell them that he’s in no state to to walk, let alone go after two over-powered wizards. He leans on Cisco for support, letting iris take the lead. She’s got that line in her spine and that look in her eye that makes him more wary of _her_ than the former Dark Lord groupie following them.

            It’s already hard to breathe, but it becomes an actual struggle as Iris tells him what happened to Barry after he thought Eddie was dead. (He really needs to stop getting into situations were his loved ones mistake him for dead and dying, really.)

            “Where are they?” Lashawna asks. “Do you have a tracking spell on him or something?”

            “That’s just creepy,” Iris replies, her voice a little echo-y and a purple sheen to her eyes and the tips of her fingers. “No, I’m looking for unusual weather phenomenon. Lightning tends to go crazy when Barry’s around, even if he’s not doing anything with the weather. Even more so when he’s lost control.”

            Caitlin makes a noise in the back of her throat. “What makes you think he’s lost control? I thought he’s been pretty stable since the fight at the school between you three and Eobard.”

            Eddie snorts. “That’s what he wanted you to think.” He breathes sharply through his nose at a spike of pain. “It actually got worse.”

            “Oh yeah, that’s good to hear,” Cisco says sardonically.

            He glares at him. “Do you know how much power that’s going through Barry?” he snarls. “ARGUS pulled him out of school for God’s sake. Me and Iris got to see him on the weekends, Nora got to see him three times a week. They kept him in classes to learn how to control the magic. Sometimes he’s kept isolated because he does more harm than good. He struck a deal with Lyla to continue his whole Man in Red shtick. It’s by the Grace of ARGUS they hadn’t stopped us from being a team or that they even trained up. Everything little thing he did or does was with the finest control to keep _us_ safe.” It’s only because he’s so weak that he doesn’t pull away from Cisco.

            Not that he could anyway, with Cisco tightening his grip on him anyway. “Whoa, dude. Not what I meant. I’m just as worried about Barry as you are.”

            Eddie sighs, something loosening in his chest. Of course he knows this. Cisco and Caitlin, they were Barry’s friends long before Eddie got to know the Hufflepuff. “I know. I’m sorry.”

            Cisco grins. “Breathe. It’s fine. We’ll find him.”

            There’s a ringing in his ears. He frowns and cocks his head to the side. It’s unnatural. Familiar. The sound of Barry’s magic—it has to be. When Eddie closes his eyes and looks for Iris and Barry, he get’s red and that ringing. Iris is purple and melodic hum.

            “He’s close by,” Iris murmurs.

            The following _boom!_ nearly sends them to the ground. Eddie groans against the throb of pain through his body, from his toes to his head. He staggers against Cisco, his vision flashing back for the briefest moment. He forces his feet to follow when Iris picks up in a run, abandoning the other three in their group. His equilibrium sways without Cisco to lean on, but he goes on.

            The sight that greets him when they finally come to the clearing Barry and Eobard _made_ almost sends him to his knees. He barely recognizes his boyfriend, his hair wild, dirt and blood streaking his skin and his clothes, magic crackles around him like a lightning storm, and his eyes are bright white, stars in a storm. Lightning.

            _Lightning._

“Barry!” Iris shouts, her voice cracking down the middle like lightning. Her magic sounds off her like thunder. She’s the storm in the night, refusing to yield to the power the two wizards have at their fingertips. “Goddamnit, _Barry Allen!”_ She sweeps away the wind swirling around the five of them with a wide gesture of her hands, there’s no room for two storms.

            Barry doesn’t even flinch. He goes for Eobard’s throat, lashing out with a magic fueled strike to his throat. It makes contact and Eobard chokes.

            “Barry,” Eddie whispers, his voice rolling low like thunder. He feels the thrum in his nerves, the crackle on his skin.

            Barry doesn’t even look their way. He takes a spell to the shoulder in an attempt to get close to Eobard again. Eobard sweeps him off his feet, taking him down. Barry lands on his back with a bone-rattling thud, all breath leaving him.

            Iris shouts his name again as Eddie staggers forward to stand side-by-side with her, leaning against her when his energy wans. He can’t bear to watch his boyfriend fight and he’s unable to do anything to to help. His Crest throbs against his chest, mocking his weakness.

            “ _No!”_ Barry screams, sudden, loud, feral—black streaks through his veins, raised on his face and bare arms. Eddie can’t tell if it’s just magic or some sort of corruption. Too much magic for one person. “No,” he sobs. He’s still on his back, Eobard straddling his chest, hands around his throat. “He c-can’t—I c-can’t l-let—.” He chokes, arching up, trying to throw Eobard off.

            “Barry,” Iris pleads, her hands clasped and shaking. “Let us help.”

            Eddie’s feet are glued to the ground, his toes tingling with magic. He wants to cry. Everything, everything’s falling apart.

            It’s all fucking falling apart.

            Caitlin sobs behind him.

**xxii.**

Iris can’t fucking move. She blindly grabs for Eddie, gripping his arm in a vice. Barry won’t, won’t let them help. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know Eddie’s actually alive. God, did he completely break? After everything he’s finally broken?

            No, she refuses to believe it.

            This isn’t broken, this is vengeance. This is Barry all over, trying to save them all with his broken heart.

            Iris covers her mouth, choking on a sob caught in her throat. He’s losing. Anyone can see it. Even before Eobard straddles him, she can see it. Barry’s gone crazy in grief. Too much has happened in his life, too much has happened this last year. Everything he’s found out. Of course he’s grieving despite his attempts to put on a brave face and smile at everything. How does he do it? How does he make it seem so effortless?

            “Barry please,” she mumbles, even though she _knows, she knows_ he can’t hear her. But he’s dying and Eobard can’t just let him die, he’s just going to start the timeline over and this time it’s just going to be worse.

It’s always worse.

The ground trembles, then crumbles, under the onslaught. Barry sends out a pulse of magic, sending Eobard flying. The white light fades before it can reach the five of them, something that almost sends Iris to the ground in relief. He’s aware they’re here. She couldn’t be sure, even with the few words Barry said—he could’ve been saying them to himself.

“Iris,” Eddie whispers, scrabbling at her arm. “Iris, we have to do something.” The fact that he’s lost his composure just adds to the reality, the helplessness.

After all of this—After all their work to make sure Barry would’ve have to do this alone, they still can’t do anything to help.

“Barry, please. Let us help you,” she shouts, willing herself to break the magic to take a step. “Eddie’s alive,” she tries desperately. “He’s _alive_. And he’s going to stop this ‘almost dying, perceived to be dead’ bullshit.” It’s a cheap shot, but necessary.

“I’ve never seen a duel get so physical,” Lashawna says, her voice small. “So brutal. What the hell?”

“This isn’t a duel,” Caitlin says. “There’s rules and manners. This, this is a knock out, drag out fight. Everything goes.”

Cisco is warm against Iris’ back, his magic humming. “We have to so something,” he mutters, echoing Eddie. “He’s losing.”

And he is. For every time Barry knocks Eobard back, the Dark Lord comes back with a harder punch that lands Barry on his back for too long. Despite the magic at Barry’s disposal his shoulders heave with effort, his face is bloody, his arm broken, dangling. Barry’s _losing_.

_He can’t._

Iris’ vice grip loosens down to Eddie’s hand, tangling their fingers together and squeezing tight. He squeezes back, just on the bad side of pain.

She swallows. “Let’s go.”

It hurts, fighting all that magic trying to protect them. It takes all of her strength to move even a foot. Eddie walks right next to her, no hesitation.

“What the hell are you doing?” Caitlin hisses. “Come back.”

The two wizards haven’t noticed them yet and Iris has to keep from crying at the sight of Barry on the ground, twitching to heave himself back up. Eobard stands over him, smirking, his eyes blazing red.

This isn’t how it’s going to end. Not alone, but together.

“How the fuck are you doing that?” Cisco mutters. “I can’t even wiggle my _toes.”_

“Not alone,” Eddie whispers.

She can feel the heat radiating from him with every heartbeat. She can feel his magic pulsating with hers, growing stronger.

            “Not alone,” she echoes.

**xxiii.**

            Barry’s a little lost—lost in a haze of white. His mind is fuzzy and his magic crackles. He can taste the faintest trace of blood in his mouth, but something tells him there’s probably more than just a faint trace. His cheek throbs in time with his heartbeat, but his only focus is the memory of Eddie’s heart slowing, slowing, slowing, _gone._

He growls at Eobard, a surge of hate seizes him so strongly he can almost taste it over the blood staining his tongue. His dad, his mom, Eddie, Iris. So many people and he knows, he knows that if he lets Eobard live the cycle of hurt and pain and anguish will just start all over again, only worse.

The only way to win, the only way to stop this is to kill him.

            But can he do it?

            Can he take another person’s life? All of his practice were never directed at the living, or even the dead, just the simple _are._ No matter how much rage he feels, he can bring himself to take a life.

            Even as Eobard spits at his feet and smirks, Barry just can’t bring himself to do it. His stomach rolls and his heart skips a beat at the idea.

            But he lunges anyway toward the Dark Lord. He can feel the swell of magic between them. It’s not even just them anymore, the air shimmers with wild magic, the earth rumbles with it. It’s not magic inside of them, it’s magic surrounding them, and Eobard’s stealing it from him piece by piece.

            He knocks Eobard to the ground, straddling him across the chest, pinning him with a hand around his throat and a pulse of magic against his chest.

            “Stop,” he croaks, hoarse like he’s the one being choked. “Just stop this. You won’t win.”

            “Won’t I?” Eobard hisses, his lips curled into that damn smirk. “How many times have I won, _Barry?_ Versus you, you’ve won once. You’re so out of touch you can’t even see your own failure coming your way.”

            _Barry…_

He presses down, tightening his figures. He won’t, he can’t—but he _wants to._ He wants this to just end already.

            … _Barry—_

He squeezes his eyes shut, and Eobard doesn’t move—so sure in the outcome. _Iris, Iris, Iris. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Mom, mom, mom._ He can’t, he won’t, he wants to.

            “Barry!”

            He jerks, eyes flying open, his vision white at the corners. “Eddie?” he whispers, croaks, chokes. God, no. No, he can’t be going crazy. Not now.

            “Barry, listen to me,” Iris pleads. That has to be Iris. No one else sounds like a hurricane, a tornado in their magic. “Eddie’s alive. You have to get your control back.”

            He shakes his head, his ears popping. _He’s in control._ He hasn’t killed Eobard yet, has he? Of course not, because he’s in _control_.

            “Barry.” He starts at his name, the roll of thunder with the magic. “Barry, please. There’s another way to fix this.”

            “No,” Eobard says, the only clear thing. “There really isn’t. Come on, Bartholomew. Either go through with it or let me go my way.”

            He hisses at him, the hair on his next standing on end. “Go to hell.”

            “You first.”

            Barry screams, a savage sound from his throat, his vision going completely white. No. no . no .nonononononono.

            _“BARRY_!”

 

**[…]**

            The halls of the school are quiet; the sort of deafening silence that it is more funeral like that anything else. Lashawna drags her fingers along the wall, tapping her nails against it in a rhythm-less beat. The first time she’s step foot in a school since high school trying to hide her magic, and it has to be now of all times.

            Caitlin’s in the potions room as she passes, crying with Ronnie’s scarf clutched against her chest, Cisco at her side, his hug awkward but comforting. Lashawna stops and heads in, her heart going out for the Ravenclaw.

            “He’s going to come back,” she says quietly to her. “He’s more than a match for the Mardon brothers on the run.”

            “I know,” Caitlin replies. “I just. It’s a little hard, we haven’t been apart for more than three months. We might have a little disturbing co-dependency going on.” She smiles, meek and faint, but humourous. “My mom told me that when told her about the engagement.”

            “It’s true, dude,” Cisco says, but he’s grinning. “It’s a little freaky.”

            Caitlin laughs, like she’s suppose to, and Lashawna grins. She’s not here to attend class or become a professor. In fact, the school that use to be known as the watch tower of the magical community is being disbanded, and in replace?—

            “Have you seen Eddie?” Lashawna asks. “Nyssa’s looking for him. Something about strengthening his Crest.”

            “Last I hear he was in the Room of Requirement,” Cisco says. “Iris is there too.”

            “Thanks.”

            She says goodbye and gets back up again, her knees cracking. She swears to God she’s not an old lady. She passes more people in the Justice League—the cheesiest name of cheesiest names, but it fits, damnit—and she nods her head. Lashawna’s not sure how long she’ll feel like an outsider, she’s not even sure they’re not ready to turn on her at any second. She keeps to herself most of the time, even months after Eobard Thawnes’ defeat—disappearance?

            No one can agree on the outcome of the battle between Eobard Thawne and Barry Allen. Not even her, Caitlin, or Cisco. Iris and Eddie aren’t talking; Barry’s definitely not talking.

            She knocks on the wall where the Room’s door is usually. The door doesn’t appear, she doesn’t even bother trying to make it.

            “Eddie?” she calls out softly. “Nyssa’s looking for you. Cisco said you’re in here?” They’re always in here, it was a stupid question to ask Cisco. “I don’t know why she sent me. I’m not a errand-girl.” Cisco and Caitlin couldn’t break through the silence, what makes everything thing she can? “Eddie? Iris? Everyone’s worried.”

            She stumbles back when the door appears, swirls of sleepy clouds and the faintest gray of a thunderstorm. Eddie’s at the door, blue eyes sleepy and bed-head galore.

            “You were…sleeping?”

            He raises an eyebrow. “What did you expect? Magic replenishment takes a while. Sleeping’s the best.” He rubs his eyes, yawning. “What’s up?”

            She swallows. “Nyssa wanted to talk to you about your Crest. She said she can strengthen it with her family’s magic.”

            He grins. “Good. That’s good.” He steps back. “Want to come in? We’re decent.”

            Lashawna doesn’t know what to expect when she walks in—she’s heard from the other former students that Eddie, Iris, and Barry practically lived in this room after the First Incident and then the Justice League used it for training before Barry was pulled from school—but a sleepy bedroom with stacks of pillows and books and movies is definitely not what she expected.

            There’s a giant bed in the corner of the room, a window showing a sunny day with warm light even though it’s raining outside right now. Pillows are piled high on the bed, blankets are tangled in a deep nest. Iris is still asleep, snoring slight, curled protectively around Barry.

            He still doesn’t look good, pale and gaunt; his scars from the First Incident are still swollen and inflamed from the loss of control that had his magic bursting from every seam. She wishes that was a metaphor, but she’ll never get the sight of white magic pouring from Barry like it’s filling him up and breaking him apart in anyway it can.

            “How’s he doing?” she whispers, even though Eddie’s been talking at a normal volume this whole time. She can’t help it, just seeing Barry sends his screaming ringing in her ears.

            Eddie smiles softly. “Better.”

            She drags her fingers along one of the bookshelves. “Are you ever going to tell us what actually happened to Eobard?”

            He shrugs. “When Barry’s ready.” His expression falls to something less content to grieving and shadowed. There is no love between the Thawne relatives, so the grief is for something else. For Barry’s lost humanity? No one’s seen him since the night when they came stumbling from the field, arm in arm with Lashawna, Cisco, and Caitlin shuffling behind them. He shakes his head. “Do you have a list of new recruits?”

            She digs out her phone, nodding. “Yeah. Clark and Kendra just got back from Africa. They found a woman name Mari Jiwe McCabe. She likes the codename Vixen. Virgil got a guy, Jaime Reyes, Blue Beetle.” She grins. “We’re expanding.”

            “Good.” He scans the list, probably pausing when he sees Bruce Wayne and Ted Kord’s (apparently Jaime’s mentor) names on the list. She had not idea they were magical. “Clark says something’s on the horizon, something dark. Not another Dark Lord, maybe worse.”

            Her eyes wander back to Barry and Iris on the bed, blinking in surprise when she sees brown eyes staring back at her—Iris, awake. She curls closer around her boyfriend, almost protective.

            Eddie smiles. “Tell Nyssa I’ll come find her at dinner.”

            She scowls. “Not an errand-girl.”

            He grips her arm lightly. “I know,” he says, expression sincere. “You’re a friend. Please.” He glances back at his bed, at his boyfriend and girlfriend. “I’m hoping to get Barry to come to dinner with us.” He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Now that everyone knows a little bit about it, we know no one’s going to touch him without his permission. He’s still a little on edge.”

            She huffs a bitter laugh. “Of course he is.” She glances at Iris again to see Barry snuggle closer, pressing his nose against the juncture of her neck and sighing happily, a smile on his face. It stretches the scar on his jaw, ugly and raw. Iris smiles down at him, fond, her fingers carding through his hair. “What happened to Eobard?” she asks.

            Eddie gets this faraway look on his expression. “Just know, he’s taken care of. We took care of him.”

            She’s herded out of the room just as Barry tenses in bed, a whimper catching in his throat. The door shuts just as his eyes fly open with a strangled cry.

            Lashawna stands there for a moment longer, stomach rolling and feet heavy.

            They’re going to be okay. They have to be.

            She shoves her phone back into her pocket. Until then, the Justice League has a job to do. There’s more to the world than a Dark Lord. There’s a side to the dark bigger than that.

            And they’re going to stop it.

 

**[…]**

            How does the saying go?

“Guilty or not guilty? _Everyone_ is guilty. And lighting _always_ strikes _twice_.”

_Crack!_

_Crack!_

_—CRACK!_


End file.
